“My help?” Thurmwood chortled, his one, overgrown tooth making a whistling noise. “With what?”
Merceron unbuttoned a pocket on his coat and reached inside. “With this.”
He pulled out the Starfinder, holding it out in his upturned claw. The other dragons fell dumbstruck.
“Are you mad?” hissed Thurmwood. “Are you stone? Do you care nothing for what might happen to us?”
“I had to bring it,” said Merceron. “I had nowhere else to turn.”
“That’s why the humans have come!” said Varsilius. “For the Starfinder! Are they after you, Merceron?”
“Did you steal it from them?” asked Thurmwood. “Is that why they’re here?”
“Just shut up and listen, will you?” Merceron stepped forward. “A boy gave me the Starfinder. A human, yes, but he’s on the run, too… from Rendor, Thurmwood. That ship you told me about is his.”
“Rendor?” Thurmwood put up his claws. “Enough. I don’t want to know anything more.”
Ganomyrn grimaced. “Merceron, if the Redeemers know you have the Starfinder…”
“They’ll follow you here!” spat Thurmwood. “You’ve led them right to us!”
“Where else was I to go?” asked Merceron. “Would you rather I gave Rendor the Starfinder? Thurmwood, we were friends long before the war. I need your help! You’re right—the Redeemers are after me. They know I have the Starfinder. I need to figure out a way to destroy it.”
Thurmwood shook his head. “Impossible. We’ve been through this already. We searched the library. No spells—”
“But since then,” Merceron interrupted. “Surely you must have considered it.”
“Merceron, we were too busy trying to stay alive.” Thurmwood waved his arm about the cavern. “Look around. Does this look like Taurnoken to you?”
“What about Esme?” asked Merceron. “Have you thought of a way to help her, at least? While you were sitting around here in the dark…”
“Esme and the Starfinder were gone!” cried Thurmwood. “We were rid of them, and we were glad for it! Now you bring them back to us? And humans too?” With a sweep of his wings, Thurmwood turned to go. “Leave, Merceron, please. Go back to wherever you were hiding. No one wants you here.”
He slipped back into the darkness. Ganomyrn and Varsilius hesitated.
“I’m sorry, Merceron,” said Ganomyrn. He put his hand on his son’s shoulder. “For everything. For… your loss. But Thurmwood’s right. We can’t help you this time.”
As he and Varsilius followed after Thurmwood, the little flame in Merceron’s hand flickered.
“Wait!” Merceron cried. “What about the Starfinder? What about Esme? Please, Thurmwood! There’s no one else who can help me!”
Thurmwood paused in the shadows. Merceron seized his chance.
“Thurmwood, if the Skylords get the Starfinder they’ll come after you,” he said. “You can’t hide. If they get it no one will be safe.”
From out of the darkness, Thurmwood replied, “Then we will wait here for them. And when they get here, we’ll know who to thank for it.”
Merceron slumped. “I came all this way…”
“Then rest. You can stay until sunset. But be gone before the night comes.”
Merceron watched Thurmwood’s tail disappear. On his shoulder, Lady Esme dipped her head in defeat.
THE TREASURE
EXHAUSTED FROM HIS LONG FLIGHT to the cliffs, Merceron slept. While he slept, he dreamed…
He was back in Taurnoken. He stood on a ledge of a tall, grand tower, overlooking the city. Ganomyrn and his son Varsilius were with him. The two were laying bricks, building the tower higher and higher.
Merceron knew Ganomyrn was an architect, not a builder. In his whole long life he had never seen Ganomryn lay bricks. Yet there he was, working with his son and cursing the Skylords.
“We’ll build it as high as we want,” declared Ganomyrn. “We’ll build until we reach the moon!”
Merceron stood on the ledge, afraid to fall.
But I have wings, he told himself. Why am I afraid?
As so often happens in dreams, his mind gave Varsilius a push. The young dragon screamed as he plummeted from the ledge, falling down, down toward the earth.
Why doesn’t he fly? wondered Merceron. He looked at Ganomyrn.
“Help him!” said Merceron. “Fly down and save him!”
Ganomyrn watched calmly as his son disappeared into the abyss. He smiled at Merceron, then went back to work.
Startled, Merceron awoke. But it wasn’t his dream that roused him. An unmistakable scent had roused his sleeping brain.
He opened his eyes, lifted his head. In the corner of the cavern, she was waiting. He watched her, eager for her to come out of the shadows but afraid to frighten her away.
“Thurmwood said you wouldn’t come,” he whispered.
“I didn’t think you’d wake up,” said Dreojen softly.
Merceron hoped she was lying. “Will you come closer?”
Dreojen lingered in the shadows. Merceron put out his claw to make a fire. When the light struck his face, Dreojen grimaced.
“You’ve changed,” she said, and dared to move a little closer.
“Have I? I don’t think so. It’s only been fifty years.”
Dreojen spied Esme perched on a nearby rock. “She hasn’t changed,” she said. “Skylord magic. Horrible.”
Merceron was barely listening. Dreojen remained beautiful, her bronze scales shimmering, her feathered mane unfaded by time. He had always thought himself lucky to have such a magnificent mate. He pushed his spectacles against his face, struck stupid with adoration.
“What about the others?” he asked. “Have they changed their minds about helping me?”
Dreojen answered coolly, “Thurmwood wanted me to remind you there’s only an hour left until sundown.”
“Coward,” Merceron snorted. The flame in his hand crackled. He made it flare to see her better. Around her shoulders and wings was draped a velvet cape. A silver necklace sparkled at her neck—a gift he had given her long ago. “We are mates, still,” he said gently. “If there’s anything you can tell me, anything that will help me destroy the Starfinder…”
“Thurmwood wasn’t lying to you, Merceron,” said Dreojen. “After Taurnoken was abandoned, we all stopped trying to figure it out.”
“Ah, so that you could live here,” rumbled Merceron. “In a hole, instead of the city of our ancestors. Instead of fighting for what belongs to you.”
Dreojen turned away with chagrin. “Stop. I won’t have this argument again.”
“Thurmwood is a coward, Dreojen. He just ran off like the rest of them!”
“You mean like you?” said Dreojen.
“That was different,” sniffed Merceron. “I had the Starfinder. I had to leave.”
“And now you’re on the run again!” Dreojen chuckled mirthlessly. “I’m not heartless, Merceron. I came because I’m worried. Thurmwood told me the Redeemers are after you. They’ll find you this time.”
“Which is why I wasted my time coming here,” growled Merceron. “I was stupid enough to think you’d all forgiven me by now. You especially, Dreojen.” He turned from her and went to Lady Esme, coaxing the bird onto his shoulder. “Since you all want me gone, let me oblige.”
“Where, Merceron? Where can you go that the Skylords won’t find you?”
“I don’t know!”
“So you’ll just keep on running?”
Merceron slumped. “If you could at least tell me something about the airship…”