The next morning I was an emotional wreck. Mak knew from the moment we woke up, of course. She did her best to be there for me while not giving anything away, and she did a great job. Not that it mattered — I did my absolute best myself not to show how off balance I was, but I wasn’t particularly successful. Tam was the first to start throwing worried glances at me, and the others weren’t far behind. Mercifully, only Herald and Mak asked what was wrong, and that in private. In English, even, to make sure that no one who might overhear had a chance of understanding.

  It wasn’t just one thing. Firstly, it was over a week by then since I’d visited my hoard, and I was getting restless with the need to make sure that it was safe. That made everything else worse; kind of how being hungry is terrible for your patience and your temper.

  Then there was the whole situation with Zabra and Tammy coming north, which was a damn cyclone of conflicting emotions. To start it had me sick with worry that they might get hurt. Then I got angry that they were making me worry, and that made me feel guilty! And then I felt like an idiot for feeling guilty about being angry at them because I knew, rationally, that I had every right to be after what they’d done before I enthralled them. That fed into how uncomfortable I was with the whole situation of my bonds with them seemingly changing how I felt about them, and… yeah. It was a mess.

  The only good thing about it was that we now had a legitimate reason to ask Mother if she knew any way of severing a bond with a human. Instinct had even grudgingly agreed to ask, so long as Conscience and I both swore not to try and act on anything we learned without her approval. But then Mother failed to return. She hadn’t come to the rotunda, and she hadn’t been at the temple when I went there in the middle of the night to check. And though I knew, logically, that she was undoubtedly the scariest thing on Mallin, I still worried that she may have somehow gotten herself into a fight that ended badly.

  Of course, my sisters had both sympathy and solutions for me. The first being Herald’s “Just go visit your hoard for a while, you silly lizard! We’ll be fine! Then you can decide if you want to interfere with whatever those two are doing on your way back.”

  Addressing my concerns about my own emotions wasn’t quite so easy. “I wish I had some words of wisdom for you,” Mak said. “I suspect I’m not entirely unbiased here. I can tell you that I, at least, feel very much loved. I… can’t really bring myself to worry about where that affection comes from. But I can tell you that I don’t see you showing Tam or Val any less love than we ourselves do. I’m sure you can love those who don’t belong to you; you just express it differently.”

  Herald enthusiastically agreed. I wasn’t so sure, but it was kind of them to say so.

  There was at least something I could do about my worrying about Mother. Or rather we, because it took Mak to remind me that I had Avjilan, and he had his locating magic and one of Mother’s scales. The moment I’d finished laying out my worries to my sisters, Mak marched right over to Avjilan and asked him in which direction we should go if we wanted to find Sower of Embers, Reaper of Flame in five minutes. Then she asked, what about in a quarter of an hour? In an hour? In two hours? Avjilan obediently cast his spell, and each time the magic pointed us in a slightly different direction.

  Mother was moving, and either she was close, or she was moving fast. I let out a huge huff of relief. It was still worrying — something unexpected must have happened that was keeping her busy — but at least she wasn’t lying injured somewhere.

  After that I was still worrying, but it was the push I needed to start building some momentum. The whole episode hadn’t taken too long, and while I wallowed the humans had been having their breakfast and getting ready. Soon enough I was infected by their enthusiasm, and while I still couldn’t pretend to be in an entirely good mood, I at least worked up the energy to get going. And I wasn’t leaving, either. Tammy, Zabra, and even my hoard could wait; we had treasure to dig for!

  We exited into a pleasantly cool morning. With the sun still below the level of the cliff we were in a kind of twilight, but that didn’t dampen anyone’s spirits. Tam looked at the cloudless sky and declared it an excellent day to become disgustingly wealthy, and that set the tone for the rest of the day. They laughed and joked as they made their way to the first location Sarina had marked as potentially containing treasure, and they kept on joking and laughing as they got to clearing rubble. Mak, Val and Marvan, the three with enhanced strength, did most of the actual heavy labor, but no one seemed to mind. Least of all Tam and Sarina; once the three diggers really got into it, Val and Marvan quite happily — and unnecessarily — took their tunics off in an incredibly transparent, not to mention effective, attempt to entertain their respective partners.

  The only one who didn’t seem to be having a great time, not counting myself, was Maglan. I didn’t like the way he watched Herald. At first I thought it might be jealousy — Herald unashamedly cheered the two barechested men on as they lifted large chunks of rubble overhead or twisted and turned in ways that were entirely ridiculous and clearly just to flex. But I quickly decided that wasn’t it. If it had been jealousy I would have expected at least a hint of anger, directed at Herald or either of the two men, but as far as I could tell there was none. No, what Maglan was feeling was, I soon realized, worry and fear. Worry for, and fear of, Herald.

  Once I caught a whiff of fear, it became impossible not to notice. Every time Herald interacted with Marvan or Sarina, there it was. Whenever either of those two laughed at something she’d said that wasn’t all that funny, whenever they answered one of her suggestions or instructions with an immediate and sincere, “Of course, Lady Herald,” or “Right away, Lady Herald,” or something similar, I saw pain on his face, and the scent grew stronger. I wasn’t sure how much Herald had told him, but Mag clearly knew that the relationship between Herald and the adventurer couple wasn’t normal, and it scared him. Badly.

  As well it should. Not because I saw any world where Herald would willingly enthrall someone she cared for — not as long as she had a choice. No, it was because at this point he was deep inside knows-too-much territory, and if he got too skittish to be trusted, either Herald or I would have to do something. I didn’t see a stern talking-to cutting it, and knowing Herald, she’d definitely see him as being her responsibility.

  …which was why, if anything had to be done, I had to make sure that I was the one to do it. I’d hate myself, but I’d just have to live with that. I had practice. Better that than to let Herald put herself in a situation where she forced her boyfriend to love her unconditionally. At least if they were both mine, they could have something resembling an equal relationship.

  Ugh. Cheerful fucking thoughts were just the order of the day, weren’t they?

  I could feel myself spiraling again, to the point that Mak started sneaking worried looks. She didn’t actually stop what she was doing, because that would have been too obvious, but I knew her tells well enough by then to know that she was upset. Which was just… upsetting Mak twice in a morning wasn’t a great sign of anything, but then I felt bad about upsetting her, which was just a lovely little feedback loop to get into.

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  It couldn’t go on, and I saw three ways of breaking the circle. The first was to just take Mak and Herald aside — again — and spill my dark thoughts about Mag. I wasn’t going to do that. I didn’t feel ready to rehash that with Herald. The second was to remove myself from the equation. I could just go for that flight Herald had suggested. I’d check on my hoard and maybe Zabra and Tammy, and both distract myself and make myself unavailable for Mak to fuss over. But I didn’t go with that either. I decided to go with option three: fake it ‘til you make it!

  “All right,” I told the group as I got up from where I’d been laying. “I’ve been lazing about long enough. I want to help dig this loot out. Point me at a rock, that I might lift it!”

  Valmik laughed softly. “History is being made!” he said. “A dragon doing menial labor cannot have happened before.”

  Marvan was a bit more cautious. He looked to Herald for permission — which I had no doubt that Maglan noticed, but I did my best to ignore that little thought. I had no room for it among all my forced cheer and positivity! When Herald just smiled with amusement he must have taken it as a yes, because he said, “Well, if you’re sure, Lady Draka, there’s some right big bastards we’ve been putting off moving due to them being awkward to grip. If you’d like to give it a go…”

  “Sure would!” I declared, with just as much enthusiasm as I needed to keep fooling myself that I was having a great time. A worrying amount, judging by the looks I got. I didn’t let them stop me. I swaggered over to that block and took a look at it.

  It was, as Marvan had said, a big bastard. A couple of feet on each side, it looked like it might weigh a ton, give or take a couple hundred pounds. It had probably been nice and square at one time, but the initial destruction had knocked a couple of chunks off, and time and vegetation had done the rest, leaving it with rounded and pitted edges. I was sure that Marvan was right, and getting a good grip on it would be awkward.

  Or it would have been if I didn’t have so much raw strength to throw at the problem. When I did my bombing runs I’d set my limit at about half a ton, but that was because I needed to fly with the things. Lifting a half-ton rock was easy; the one Marvan had pointed me at was harder, but I still picked it up without too much effort. My body plan didn’t really lend itself to lifting with my legs or to walking any distance at all with my arms full, but I made it work. I pressed that big bastard to my chest, shuffled a couple of awkward steps to where they’d been dumping the rubble, and dropped it without crushing my own feet. An unmitigated success if ever there was one!

  And the dumbest thing about it was that my cheer became a little less fake. So I got another rock and dumped that one too, to the cheers of the humans. Then another one, really playing up the “mighty dragon” angle and roaring theatrically to the sky as the block of stone settled after I dropped it on our refuse pile. Then I just continued, and when there were no large blocks left I helped the others with the less massive rubble. With every rock I carried off, I felt a little bit better. I couldn’t say why; perhaps doing something so mundane grounded me, or perhaps laboring while the humans watched made me feel a little less like a mind-enslaving villain. It didn’t matter. Soon enough I was feeling pretty good about myself, Mak was grinning her head off, and we’d exposed a stairway into a cellar or basement. It came as no surprise to anyone that this was where Sarina’s nose for treasure wanted her to go.

  Mak pulled rank to be the first one down. And really, other than myself she was the best choice to take point. She was small but ridiculously strong, tough, and agile, and she could both see in the dark and heal herself if need be.

  Not that she’d be going alone — she just had the privilege of seeing everything first. Most of the others would be right behind her, with only Ardek, Kira, and Avjilan staying outside with me and the mules. And I’d be riding along in Mak’s head, so if anything went wrong I’d know the moment it happened.

  It took some time for everyone to get ready, especially with Tam and Sarina a bit longer than strictly necessary to help their men towel down, but before too long they were all lined up at the top of the stairs. Mak made her way down the much-abused steps, then kicked in the door at the bottom with one solid application of her boot.

  Well. I say she kicked it in. With her little feet she put lots of force on a small area, and it was more like her foot went straight through the ancient, withering wood, annihilating anything resembling a latch or lock that might have been there. She was then left with her lower leg stuck through the thing, which she solved by jerking her foot out as violently as she’d smashed it through, shattering more of the crumbling door as she did so. It was far from graceful, but undeniably effective — the door was easy to pull all the way open after that.

  Messing about throwing rocks had been a good distraction. Riding along with Mak as she cast her darkvision spell and entered the basement was better. It was like watching one of those action-cam videos of someone exploring abandoned buildings, except instead of it being in night-vision gray or green, it was full color with the contrast turned way up.

  “I’m in a small room,” Mak called back as she entered, the sound loud and harsh from her perspective, distant and muted from my own. “Looks like an antechamber or guard room or something. There’s a withered table and some stools, and another closed door. The stonework looks stable. It’s too small for you all to follow me inside. I’ll move on.”

  She looked over her shoulder, squinting against the light. From the top of the stairs, I saw Herald nod toward the doorway; from Mak’s perspective I saw a tall, blurry silhouette do the same.

  Mak tried the door, but it was either latched or jammed, so she kicked that one in as well. It splintered as easily as the first.

  “Odd. There’s a hallway here, with no doors except at the end,” she reported. My perspective panned slightly as she focused on different parts of the long, narrow space. “It must be connected to a larger complex. Makes sense, I suppose, with the door facing away from the rest of the building. Herald, Val, follow into the guard room. I’m moving on.”

  Mak moved with unhurried steps through the hallway, which was about thirty feet long. Then she suddenly became still. Completely; it was as though that action-cam I might have been watching had suddenly frozen between frames. “Floor shifted,” she called back, still not moving a muscle.

  There were some soft scraping sounds, and then Herald’s voice came, almost only from Mak’s perspective. “The floor does not look hewn out of the stone,” she said, her voice tense. “And there is a very narrow gap between it and the doorframe and wall. Narrow enough you would not have seen it.”

  “What are we thinking?” Mak asked, an edge of worry slipping into her tone.

  On the stairs, Marvan had pushed his way to the door. “Might be rigged to drop?” he suggested. “As some kind of defense?”

  “Has this been seen before?” Val asked.

  Marvan shook his head. “Not that I know, but they were clever builders, the Old Malineans. Shifting floor with a gap to the wall? Sounds like the kind of thing you want to be careful with.”

  “All right,” Mak said. “Throw me a rope and anchor it. We’ll treat this like a rickety bridge. One at a time, with a guide line.”

  With a rope secured around her waist, Mak kept moving. She moved more carefully now, testing every step until she arrived at the door. Which, of course, wouldn’t open. This time she didn’t kick it in. Instead she produced a short prybar, possibly the same one she’d used when they went after Vestel, the guy who’s sent people to attack the inn at Onur’s request. And much like that time, she jammed it between the door and the frame, using sharp, economic movements that barely moved her at all.

  I found myself holding my breath as she paused. Then, with one sharp twist, she shattered the wood around the handle, grabbed onto the door, and waited. Nothing happened.

  I released my held breath at the same time as Mak, matching her in a long, slow exhalation as she opened the door with exceeding care, holding on as she stepped back to allow it to swing open.

  There was a sharp, grinding Crack from beneath her feet. Mak grabbed onto the door with a cry of “Sorrows—!” as the floor fell away beneath her feet. Then her cry cut off as the ancient door snapped off its hinges and it, and Mak, followed the floor into the dark.

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