Ernesto eyed Maeryn curiously as they deconstructed their camp. Something about her was different, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what. It was a good different, though. For a moment, he wondered if she’d reconnected with her fire magic. No, no, if she’d done that she’d have been utterly exuberant, using fire for literally everything just to exult in its return.

  Well, whatever it was, he was happy for her.

  “Alright, everyone, listen up,” Maeryn announced as they finished packing away the last of their supplies. “The dragon’s just a few hours away. We’ve been promised our safety during the meeting, but remember to be respectful.”

  At their nods, she continued. “We have two goals for this meeting.” She lifted a finger. “The first is the negotiation of safe passage through these lands. I’m certainly not going to argue with a dragon over whether they have a claim on them, not after their magic bombarded the place with a neverending blizzard.”

  “Yeah, at some point power does equal authority,” Terrance agreed breezily. “If a dragon says the land’s theirs, who’s gonna argue? Certainly not me.”

  “Exactly.” A second finger joined Maeryn’s first. “The second goal is attempting to convince the dragon to join us in our fight against the Mad Prince, in whatever ways they wish to contribute. Knowledge, tutelage, even direct combat, anything would be helpful.”

  “What could we possibly offer to make that worthwhile?” Veronica asked, doubt edging her tone. “If they’re a dragon that’s lived all these years through the Mist, they could have taken action at literally any time. What do we have to offer?”

  That was Ernesto’s cue. “Holy magic,” he stated firmly, letting his hand glow with its light. “Just like fire and necro are largely antithetical, so are their opposites: ice and holy. I would bet nearly anything that the dragon doesn’t have a good way to deal with the Mist. If we offer our services, I think we have a good chance of acquiring an ally.”

  Maeryn nodded at him proudly, and warmth spread through Ernesto’s chest. Not just from her acknowledgment—though that always felt good—but from what he could see in her eyes. She didn’t burn with the passion of pursuing a goal… but neither was her gaze dull and without light. She was healing. Something out of all their efforts to help must have stuck, and she was getting better. He was so glad.

  “If everyone’s ready? Move out,” Maeryn ordered.

  Frankie actually saluted. “Yes, Pirate Captain Maeryn!”

  She rolled her eyes at her friend, reaching up absently to touch her tricorn hat while the others chuckled. She’d completely forgotten she was wearing it, and it really did help a little for keeping her warm.. “Hat or no hat, still not a pirate, Frankie.”

  “Are we or are we not on a mission to plunder the drow lands of anything worth keeping?” the engineer challenged.

  Maeryn opened her mouth to rebut, but stopped short. “I don’t like how much sense you’re making right now.”

  “Wait, the drow are dead. Wouldn’t stealing their stuff make us graverobbers, not pirates?” Terrance questioned. “Or treasure hunters?”

  “Given how long it’s been, I believe we’d technically be amateur archaeologists?” Dan proposed. “Especially considering Veronica will be diagramming any remaining structures, and I’ll be recording what we find.”

  “Pirates,” Frankie insisted. “We’re illegally entering someone’s domain and looting the place. We can be archaeologists and pirates at the same time!”

  “Legality is defined by the ability of the local governance to both create and enforce the law,” Terrance replied slyly. “Pretty hard for dead drow to enforce anything.”

  He had a point, Ernesto decided amusedly. He was just about to propose that the drow could still be there, haunting the place as wraiths, when Maeryn lifted a hand and cut them all off.

  “Abyss, you people are impossible,” she said, pressing a hand to her temple. “Can we put the question of piracy for later? We’ve got a dragon to meet, and I really do not know how patient they’re going to be.”

  “Yes, Captain…” came the collective murmur of assent. Ernesto almost laughed as he realized it had the same energy as a bunch of kids reluctantly listening to their mother.

  Maeryn turned on her heel, walking right by him on the way to the SPATTs. And then, in a voice so low that he definitely wasn’t intended to hear it, she muttered “When did I sign up to be the mom friend again?”

  Ernesto’s willpower cracked. He ducked his head, his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

  “Mm?” Terrance asked. “You say something?”

  “Nope.” Maeryn didn’t even look back.

  The rogue glanced at Ernesto, who was completely unable to keep a straight face. “Uh-huh. Okay. Sure.” A few seconds later, as everyone started climbing astride their vehicles, Terrance sidled up to Ernesto. “What’d she actually say?”

  Ernesto shot the back of Maeryn’s head a quick glance. Should he tell him? Probably not. Would it be funny, though? Almost definitely. He pressed his lips in indecision, but ultimately fell on the side of loyalty. “I think I’ll keep that to myself.”

  Terrance raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ll get it out of you eventually.”

  “Maybe,” the holy mage admitted. “Or you’ll get distracted by something else.”

  The rogue paused, considered it, then nodded agreeably. “Also possible. Guess we’ll see.”

  Not long after, the eight of them were on their way once more. The weather remained nice: a mildly cloudy sky, a brisk wind, but overall quite pleasant if one could put aside the below-freezing temperatures. An hour passed, then two. As usual, Maeryn and Ernesto cleared the Mist as they went, though they noticed now that any signs of wildlife had vanished.

  Then Ernesto spotted something in the distance. It looked like a series of oddly shaped, almost symmetric hills… and then they breathed. The mounds of ice and snow lifted, then sloughed off as the massive beast beneath shook it off and rose onto its four legs, spreading its wings.

  Ernesto’s breath caught as he took in the sight of a real live dragon. A long, whip-like tail reflected the sunlight, ending in a club with numerous ice spikes protruding from it. Frost-colored spines lined its back, sharp-looking yet elegant. The wings themselves were nearly transparent, with only chilly blue lines where its internal bone structure lay.

  Its face was long, much like Ooble’s, though far larger… and far more intimidating. Its eyes turned to face them, and Ernesto trembled as a primal fear took him; they were heading right towards something that could kill them merely by breathing. “This was a bad idea, this was a bad idea…!” he muttered rapid-fire under his breath, but it was too late to turn back.

  As they approached the ancient being, the dragon folded its wings and sat on its haunch, curling its tail around it. “Humans,” he greeted in the human tongue—and it was definitely a he, judging from the voice—with a surprisingly courteous, not-booming voice. Like he’d had practice communicating with beings far smaller than himself. “And… a kobold?” he questioned, glancing at the dragonkin. “I am surprised your kind still exist.”

  Ooble immediately leapt off his SPATT and knelt before the dragon. “Oh, mighty dragon! I am Altiui Ooble, a descendant of the kobolds who were changed by the Mist. In honor of the flame dragon Gilriss the Warm, who saved and uplifted us, we now call ourselves dragonkin.”

  The dragon regarded him in silence for a long, unsettling moment before finally speaking. “Noted. I am Straith. Well met.”

  Maeryn dismounted from her vehicle and stood next to Ooble. “Well met, Straith. I am Maeryn d’Vert, the leader of our group.” She glanced at the dragonkin next to her. “I will say I’m grateful that we won’t have to go through the trouble of translating to and from Draconic. It was my understanding that the human language wasn’t widely practiced a thousand years ago.”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “It was not,” Straith confirmed. “However, I found being unable to communicate with all sapient beings illogical. Your kind did not have much to offer, but their tenacity intrigued me.” He fixed his gaze on Maeryn specifically, and she shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his attention. “And considering how the other races are dead and gone, it seems I was right to think such. Tell me, Maeryn d’Vert, why have you come here?”

  “Do you want the long story, or the short version?” Maeryn asked simply. Then, realizing that might have come across badly, she raised a hand. “I ask only because I don’t want to waste your time.”

  The dragon rumbled, and she braced herself, only to realize that Straith was laughing. Ice sparkled and bloomed around his haunches as he raised one foreclaw to his chest. “Foolish human. I am immortal. I have all the time I could ever wish. Tell your tale.”

  Maeryn blushed. “Right. Okay then. Our story begins, as you might have guessed, with the Mist, and mana disappearing from the world.”

  She quickly summarized the key points of her adventure, introducing her comrades as they appeared in her story. “...and so, after granting peace to the spirits of the dwarves and cleansing their mana well, we thought to travel to the drow lands. To ensure their mana well remained pure, and seek out any knowledge about holy magic that might be found.”

  She clenched her first. “Because the Mad Prince is still out there, with his Undead Legions. And he must be stopped.”

  Straith nodded thoughtfully. “A fine tale. You humans have grown over the millennium, it seems. And you in particular…” He leaned a little closer, lowering his head. And then, to Maeryn’s astonishment, he sniffed, and the air around her suctioned upwards. “Ah, yes,” he murmured, returning to his upright position. “You are attuned to both ice and necro. That is… interesting.”

  “A good interesting, I hope?” Maeryn asked weakly.

  “Oh, very much so. You see, that means you may have an answer to a question that plagues me most mightily.” Straith lifted himself onto all fours, and began taking slow, steady steps around the group. “I am an ice dragon. The concept of Cold is mine to command. And yet, the necromantic variation of Cold holds secrets that I have yet to conquer.”

  “And… you want me to teach you necromancy?” Maeryn asked.

  Straith chuckled bitterly, forcing her to turn to her left as he continued his prowl. “You betray your ignorance of my kind. It becomes difficult for dragons after their second century to attune to new mana types. After their fifth? Impossible. And I am well beyond that point.”

  “Then… I don’t understand what you want from me,” she admitted.

  Another rumbling laugh. “It is my turn to tell a tale it seems. So be it.” Straith took one meticulously placed step after another, and frost blasted Maeryn as his breath washed over her. “I have resided here, in this frozen landscape, for thousands of years. I was here when the drow first made a settlement. I was here during their greatest age. I was here when the Mist invaded these lands. When this world finally dies and grows cold and barren, I will be here. When the sun burns no longer, and all warmth dies, I will be here. For ice is eternal. And so am I.”

  Maeryn felt like she couldn’t breathe as she turned to watch Straith circle them like a cat might stalk helpless prey. Its flicking tail certainly didn’t help.

  “But try as I may, ice magic alone does not carry the truest cold. The cold that infiltrates even the stoutest spirits, the chill that creeps and steals your heart, your very soul. The absolute zero of all warmth having been consumed.” Straith snorted, and a gale of frostbitten wind brushed past the humans. “That is the domain of necromancy. A lesson I learned much too late, when I could no longer attune.”

  Straith was in front of them all again, and he pinned Maeryn’s gaze with his own piercing blue orbs. “I have spent the last thousand years studying the Mist, working to glean its secrets. Surely, the domains of ice and necro are compatible. Even if I never acquire the full attunement, so long as I claim necromancy’s frost for myself, I will be satisfied.”

  He raised his head regally, looking down on them from on high in undeniable judgment. “You wish to purify the mana well? I cannot allow it, for it is the only source of Mist available to me. Unless…”

  “Unless?” Maeryn echoed helplessly.

  Straith’s eyes narrowed, his claws digging ever so slightly into the ice they rested upon. “Unless…” he repeated, more softly, as if lulling a hesitant mouse from its hole. “...you remain with me. Show me the difference between ice cold and necrotic cold. Over and over again, until I understand it.” The ice dragon’s eyes glittered. “With such direct comparison, it should only take you fifty years or so.”

  A heavy silence fell.

  “Take your time. Consider my offer,” Straith told them smoothly, raising one of its foreclaws to idly inspect it for imperfections. “As I said before… I have all the time in the world.”

  Maeryn exchanged glances with her team, whose expressions echoed her own wide-eyed concern. They were just as out of their depths as she. And a dark, sinking feeling began to form in her stomach.

  “We have no interest in crossing you, mighty Straith,” Ooble began hesitantly, “yet our need is great. Captain Maeryn is our leader, and we have need of her at least until the Undead Legions have been vanquished.”

  “Then defeat the Legions before returning here to purify the well,” Straith said carelessly. “It matters not to me when the bargain is struck. Only that it is.”

  Maeryn looked down. If she did this, if she laid her life down here… her friends could go on to save the world. But the cost… The dragon was asking her to give up literally everything. Her family. Her home. Even her newly discovered dreams for the future.

  It felt like a cruel joke. She wouldn’t even die. She’d live here, with the dragon, while the world passed her by. It was her house arrest all over again… just one with an ageless monster keeping her in place, instead of four walls and a roof.

  No. No, she’d rather die. But if she didn’t at least try to play along, then the world would die instead.

  Maeryn swallowed, trying to work up the courage to say the words that needed to be said. To strike the deal. She opened her mouth, but someone else spoke up before she could. “Does it have to be her?” Frankie blurted.

  “Hmm?”

  “Does it have to be her, or will anyone with both ice and necromantic affinity do?” Dan repeated, catching on.

  Straith’s chin dipped the slightest fraction as he looked at them in renewed interest. “I’m listening…”

  “Here’s our counterproposal,” Terrance began, quickly building steam. “You let us go purify the mana well now, and give us a grace period of one year. In one year, we’ll provide not one but two mages trained in both ice magic and necromancy. You guarantee their safety while under your care, barring any accidents of course, and allow us to rotate the mages out every year until you learn what you want. No matter how long it takes. Ten years, fifty years, two hundred years… An arrangement in perpetuity.”

  Straith rapped his claws lightly against the ground, carving small gouges in the ice and snow. “I do like the terms, but how do I know you won’t go back on them the minute you leave my lands?”

  “Benevolent Straith!” Ooble cried out, kneeling so low his face was almost pressed into the snow. “My people would never dare betray an oath to a dragon! And I sincerely believe in these humans! But no matter what, even if some dishonorable oathbreaker took power among the humans, I guarantee the dragonkin would honor the pact!”

  Straith considered him for another long, tense moment. “You know… I think I believe you. Very well. You have one year. But know this…” His voice lowered, and the ice rumbled and quaked as he spoke. “Break your word with me, and I shall engulf your entire race in an eternal glacier, as a warning to any who might betray me.”

  Maeryn’s breath caught, but she managed a jerky nod. “We have an accord,” she whispered.

  “So we do. Honor your word; I’ll be watching.” Straith spread his wings wide, the sunlight radiating off of their crystalline structure, and with a powerful flap of his wings and a leap so strong the ground trembled, he took to the skies. Everyone watched in awestruck silence as the inconceivably old dragon vanished into the horizon in mere minutes.

  “Skies above, that was terrifying,” Terrance breathed, and somehow that broke the tension. Everyone quickly agreed with some variant of their regional swear, before Dan put a handle on his shoulder in solidarity.

  “That was quick thinking,” the alchemist praised him.

  “It truly was,” Ooble agreed. “Your negotiation skills are impressive. Did your parents teach you before their untimely demise?”

  “You all should thank Frankie, not me,” Terrance demurred. “I was stuck until she put the idea in my head of someone else doing it. As for where… well, my parents were going to teach me at some point, I’m sure, but I had to learn the hard way growing up. The trick is to make the offer enticing enough that the other person convinces themself it’s in their best interest to accept.” He smirked. “Two mages instead of one, and an arrangement that won’t die when Maeryn does? How could he resist?”

  Maeryn breathed out, finally feeling her heartbeat slow. “Thank you all,” she told them fervently. “I wasn’t looking forward to giving up everything.”

  Ernesto rolled his eyes. “If you still think we’d ever let you, clearly you haven’t been listening.”

  Terrance looked at him in naked surprise. “Ernesto. That was the sassiest thing you’ve ever said.” His face bloomed into a faux-tearful smile. “I’m so proud!”

  “I said it before, I’ll say it again: you’re a bad influence,” the holy mage told him directly.

  “He really is,” Veronica and Peter muttered at the same time, then shot each other surprised looks. Frankie just started laughing at them both.

  A smile slowly crept across Maeryn’s face. They may not have convinced Straith to side with them over the Mad Prince, but that goal had only ever been a fanciful dream. They’d gotten what they needed: unmolested passage to the drow lands. And, bonus, they now had a contract that would guarantee mutual nonaggression with a being strong enough to kill them all.

  Not bad for a day’s work.

  “Let’s go,” she declared, turning her gaze south. “We’ve got a mana well to purify. And I don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to warming up!”

  “Yes, Captain!”