So much had happened over the last few days that Tom Drake’s head was still spinning. He had taken huge risks, disobeyed orders, and witnessed things he had only imagined. Like seeing monsters for the first time – now that was new.

Gods, they were ugly. Huge and totally undecided if they were animals or men, with eyes made of bright anger and speaking words nobody could ever really hope to replicate unless they had a beast’s throat. Those sounds… he knew he would hear them in his nightmares. No doubt about that.

Oh yeah, and they were fast and way, way too tough. No wonder the Venatori existed.

Also because the Venatori were the only ones with enough of a spine to go after monsters like that when they crossed a line and began kidnapping lots of innocent people.

Of course, all that was over. They had won. It was great. They had walked all the way back to Eloh and brought everyone home, and then they had promptly gotten told off by a bunch of knights… and by his own father, Earl Warren Drake.

Tom was riding again now, the wood elf Ceri seated behind him and clinging to his waist, while she looked around like she was on top of a tower with legs. Off to his right, Caiden kept giving him looks, and they tended to make Tom a little uncomfortable, like he had done something bad and Caiden was going to use that crazy bayonetted crossbow contraption of his to stick him right in the throat.

He wouldn’t do that, though. Not after all they had been through. Honestly? Tom owed that guy his life. Because, yes, he’d been an idiot, and Caiden alone had given him the chance to take back being an idiot and continue living.

Anyway, long story short, here they were riding all the way back across the golden Plains of Illikon and back home, so they could be presented before the royals for judgment.

His royals, King and Queen Illikoni.

All this trouble because he, a pair of monster hunters, and the squirmy elf riding double with him had dared to disobey orders and go save a bunch of people from dying at the hands of beastfolk in a horrible disgusting swamp. Four nights of quiet camping and lots of whispers and exchanged glances, glares, and watching Caiden sleep far away from everybody like he really just wanted to be alone, and now they were finally here.

Tom rode between Caiden and Gwen – Caiden’s monster hunting partner, and very cute – as they approached the gates. Pride swelled into his chest and made him sit even straighter, glancing between the Venatori on either side of him.

“Ever been to Illikon before?” he asked as they drew nearer to it.

“Not me,” Gwen said. “I’ve never been this far north.”

“Caid?”

Grunt, was what he got in return. It sounded kind of like a negative grunt.

“Well, this isn’t just some normal city. This is the jewel of the Northwest, one of the biggest port cities in all the Empire. And hey, we show hospitality a little better than the guys in the Heartland do. We don’t see many Venatori up here – hope you’re ready to be gawked at and called heroes.”

Caiden huffed. “I doubt that.”

“Yeah? You wait and see.”

The gates of intricately carved wood banded by strips of heavy metal stood before them now, capped by a tall gatehouse of pale stone, the underside bearing the sharp teeth of a portcullis. Standing over it on the walls were soldiers clad in tabards colored deep blue and gold, some decorated with golden gryphons: the symbol of Illikon.

The symbol of his home.

“Open the gates!” Warren called from where he rode at the head of all the knights. The order was immediately relayed, and the gates shuddered and creaked.

Slowly dragged apart like a pair of massive doors – which, really, was what these particular gates were – the gates parted to reveal the main street that ran through the center of the city from east to west, wide and made of cobblestone. Following it would take them directly to Castle Illikon, which stood overlooking jagged cliffs beaten by ocean spray.

Early morning fog still hung in the air. There weren’t many people out yet in the streets, which still rested in the warm glow of the street lamps. From here, Castle Illikon looked even more imposing than usual, its tall white towers, capped in slate blue, reaching up from the mist. And atop those banners fluttered the flags of Illikon, bearing that same golden gryphon passant on a field of royal blue.

For a moment, Caiden and Gwen looked down that long street and through the fog, seeming to drink in the sights – and maybe try to get an idea of their surroundings. At least in Caiden’s case, since he narrowed his eyes like he was scoping out a battlefield. Tom learned pretty fast that Caiden seemed to do that everywhere he went.

Gwen, however, put on a bright smile and looked generally very impressed.

That, at least, prompted Tom to grin and say what he had been waiting to say for this entire trip.

“Welcome to Illikon.”

As much as Tom was dying to show all three of them around, he didn’t get the chance. Warren tugged on that chain Tom so often felt around his neck – not that he didn’t break it sometimes; the chain, not his neck – and the whole bunch of them followed him all the way down the main street and toward Castle Illikon.

They rode over the sturdy, broad drawbridge across the castle’s moat and into the grass around the keep itself, where servants came forward to tend to their horses. Gwen seemed almost shocked when that happened, and Tom gave her a look as they approached the keep.

“You’ve never been around stuff like this much before, huh?”

“Never,” Gwen replied. “I grew up with priestesses and urchins, then joined the Venatori. So… this is all new to me.”

Tom snorted. “Hey, I can relate. To that urchin part, anyway.”

That got her brow all screwed up in confusion, but there wasn’t really time for Tom to go through his past before they were being ushered into the castle.

With the doors thrown wide open like they were now, even the great hall of Castle Illikon smelled of a brisk, briny sea breeze – definitely one of Tom’s favorite smells – mingling with the scent of various perfumes from the sparse flocks of nobles already starting to mill around in there. Tom followed right in Warren’s footsteps as he led the way inside. All the knights, Tom included, removed their helms and helmets and tucked them under one arm as the floor underfoot changed from sturdy stone to a long, deep blue carpet lined with gold.

On either side of them and occupying some of that immense, open space stood tall columns, lining the walk toward two thrones of rich, dark wood: thrones adorned in every conceivable place with gryphons. Gryphon heads on the arms, gryphon heads on the high backs, gryphon claws for the feet…

It looked like Tom’s place did with dragons. Just gryphons instead.

Seated there were King and Queen Illikoni themselves, holding court. Things weren’t exactly firing up yet, from the look of it, with a herald reading a long list to himself.

That gave Tom plenty of time to take in the room again. Which he never minded, because this was the greatest castle on the face of Midgard. And in those thrones rested the greatest rulers: King Illikoni with his dark brow crowned in an adornment of gold and sapphires and a scowl under his black-and-grey beard. And of course Queen Illikoni, who looked almost as divine as all those old legends claimed of royalty, wearing her gown of silver and blue, her hair flowing and golden.

Flanking the thrones stood a pair of guards clad in heavy sets of colorful armor also decorated with gryphons – noticing a pattern yet? – and holding spears so long they seemed to reach almost halfway to the vaulted ceiling.

Unannounced and almost startling the herald, Warren stopped before those thrones.

Tom, for his part, knelt the instant he stopped walking – though he did throw a look over his shoulder at Caiden, Gwen, and Ceri as he sank to one knee. Wouldn’t you know it, the only other one standing in formation with the knights was Caiden. He also looked just in time to see Caiden’s hand snap out and grab Ceri’s arm when she abruptly tried to walk off, dragging her back over.

Kneeling started a chain reaction of everyone there steadily doing the same, with Caiden’s hand moving to Ceri’s neck and forcing her down too. Tom would have snickered if this had been the place. Eventually, every one of them had their heads held low under the stares of Illikon’s royalty.

And as much as he wanted to look up just a little to try reading all that silence, Tom remained still.

“Earl Warren,” said King Aetius Illikoni, and Tom didn’t have to look up to know he had lifted his hand, “you may rise and speak. Tell us, whom do you bring to our court at such an hour, and why?”

Not wasting a moment, Warren got to his feet and answered, “These knights and I rode to Eloh to reinforce them against the encroaching beastman threat…”

Someone else rose to their feet too: Cassian Marks, son of Earl Marks, that snotty little brat who thought the world was ending the moment something didn’t go precisely his way.

Also a complete ass. Tom huffed quietly to himself the moment Cassian stood.

“Tom Drake disobeyed direct commands from my father, your Grace,” said Cassian, halfway in a blurt.

All eyes turned to him the instant he stood, including Tom’s. For a good moment or two, no one spoke. Not until Tom did, anyway – probably because everybody thought Cassian would be smart enough to catch on by himself. Joke was on them.

“Permission to stand not granted, Cassian,” Tom snarled, and really it came out as more of a growl than he had intended, but whatever. “And don’t get anybody started on permission to speak.”

That really made Cassian go red and then white in the face, and he swallowed so loudly Tom heard it as he bowed his head again and returned to one knee.

And, for a second, Tom wondered if it was okay to feel this smug about it. Then he realized he didn’t really care, and he resumed feeling incredibly smug anyway.

“Barring this speaking out of turn,” said King Aetius, stroking his beard, “we would hear your account of what happened, Earl Warren.”

While he knelt there, Tom was half tempted to rest his chin on his knee and wait it out while Warren recited everything that had happened… everything that Warren knew about well enough to recite, anyway. Which wasn’t a lot.

And that incited a gnawing at Tom’s insides that grew more desperate with each of Warren’s words, because he really wanted to fill in all the blanks. Not to mention the fact that kneeling here with his head bowed only made him feel even more restless than usual.

“We rode to Eloh,” Warren began. “When we arrived, we found the outlying farmlands under attack by monsters. These beastmen carried prisoners into the Shadowvale. We attempted to pursue, but were ordered by Earl Marks to halt the advance and return to Eloh. I saw Thomakos—” Warren paused, and Tom knew what was coming.

His father was an effort lately to use a more modern version of his name, since apparently Thomakos was a little archaic. Kind of like the difference between using Vincentius or Vincent, Draconius or Drake… Tom, for his part, liked to pick and choose. Because some of them, if you asked Tom, sounded cooler than others. That was how Tom decided which ones he preferred.

“Thomas,” Warren corrected predictably, “returned to Eloh following this order, but I lost him soon thereafter. As it turns out, Thomas entered the Shadowvale and Rognosst Swamp with a pair of Venatori and a wood elf, retrieved the prisoners, and returned them to Eloh.”

A heavy stillness fell over the hall. King Illikoni stroked his beard. Queen Illikoni steepled her fingers. No one spoke.

Not until Queen Illikoni said, “We would know of what happened in the Shadowvale and Rognosst Swamp.”

“Your Grace,” Earl Marks said suddenly, bowing still lower, “I beg permission to speak.”

Tom’s eyes were fixed on the floor too, despite the swell of rage he had to swallow. And then swallow again. Damn, it was hard to choke down – really, it was a wonder he did it.

“Speak.”

“Your Grace, I humbly beseech you to ask someone other than Thomakos—Thomas, whatever it is his father calls him – to speak of this. His biases are many, and his ego is… bloated.”

Tom gritted his teeth, sucking in a hard breath and allowing himself a long, low growl because, Are you kidding me? Like he would lie? To Illikon’s royalty? To anybody? Ever?

But the Illikonis took the diplomatic option, and King Illikoni said, “Very well. We trust Thomas’s word, but if it will please the court, we shall hear instead from a willing Venator.” A pause. “Venatori, rise and tell us what occurred in the swamp.”

Tom didn’t have to glance over to know Caiden was the one who stood first. Maybe it was the way all the air in the room felt like it shifted just from him moving, because he seemed to take up way too much of it, but probably it was because Tom hadn’t forgotten Caiden taking up for him once already.

That only got confirmed when Caiden spoke. The way his gruff words echoed off the high stonework served as a very good reminder that this Legion captain – former Legion captain; whatever – had one hell of a more powerful voice than doofy Earl Marks.

“Your Grace,” Caiden said, “we went through the Shadowvale and into Rognosst Swamp with the wood elf, Ceri, as a guide. She led us to an encampment of beastmen, where the prisoners were being held. The beastmen initially gave chase as we set the prisoners free, though their camp was under attack. Tom nearly,” and Tom felt Caiden’s eyes cut to him when he said that, “gave his life giving the rest of us time to get out alive. My partner and I gave him the chance he needed to escape. If we hadn’t, he would have willingly died there for all our sakes.”

They exchanged looks then – the King and the Queen. Their eyes met, and maybe they gave each other the subtlest nods; Tom really couldn’t be sure. For all he knew, they had some kind of magical connection or something.

But when Queen Illikoni stood, her eyes on Tom, he felt his stomach drop so far it started getting cozy with his—

“Thomakos Drake,” she said, as the entire room went down in a steady wave of kneeling, some of them practically kissing the floor after seeing her and King Illikoni rise to their feet. “No longer will you serve us as a squire. Tomorrow evening, we hereby pronounce to hold a ceremony.”

Tom couldn’t help but look up, all sense and respect bounding off somewhere with his racing heart and letting him stare at her with wide eyes. She still watched him, and he thought he even saw a hint of a smile. Which he was definitely imagining— right?

“Tomorrow,” she finished, “you will be named a knight of Illikon.”

That was when time stopped. For a while, anyway. Long enough for him to feel like he would catch the silence in the room on fire with all the sheer pride and joy he couldn’t even process. Long enough, too, that even he didn’t care when Earl Marks eventually found the opportunity to protest.

It even lasted long enough for him and the other knights to be dismissed, with him still in a daze and probably wearing the dumbest grin anybody had ever seen. The other knights all had important crap to do, no doubt about that, so they made themselves scarce in a hurry. That left Caiden as the nearest person around when they stepped out of the great hall, so he was the hug victim when Tom just had to take it out on somebody.

Very abruptly, he turned on his heel and got his arms around Caiden, pulling him into such a heartfelt hug that it apparently locked him up completely. Plus, the very startled grunt!? kind of noise it got out of him was absolutely priceless.

So Tom quickly converted that to a hearty punch on the shoulder instead before he looked at all three of them – Caiden, Gwen, Ceri – and blurted, “You’re all invited. You’re coming, right? Ever been to a noble party before? It’ll be awesome; trust me.”

He got excitement from the ladies – not that that was unusual for him, really – and a thoughtful kind of semi-frown from Caiden’s eternally stony face, but hey, they all agreed.

“I’d love to!” said Gwen.

“You’re inviting the elf?” Ceri said. “Not afraid I’ll bewitch someone? Turn somebody into a frog?”

“Who, me? I’m not worried about it. Who’s worrying about that? Besides, if you curse Cassian or something, we can throw another party,” Tom said.

Caiden, when it was his turn, nodded and said, “All right.”

Tom grinned. “Great.” He fished around in a pouch on his belt and tossed all of them some coins, which got Ceri to look very thoughtful about something. “Get some rooms at the Silver Stein – best place in town— and something nice to wear too. And show up here around, ah – we usually do ceremony stuff around sundown, so afternoon would be good.”

Okay, so he was talking faster than his horse ran right now – which was saying a lot, by the way, he had the fastest horse – but they seemed to get it.

He paused.

“Actually, y’know what, screw it - I’m buying all of you drinks too. C’mon.”

Noise once more filled the great hall of Castle Illikon. A sort of liveliness unlike before: excitement stirred in every corner of the vast chamber, voices bouncing off every stone in the place as everyone had to get their fill of gossip.

All evening, Tom was right in the middle of it. Because it was, after all, his accolade. Knighting ceremony. Dubbing. Because he was becoming a knight.

No big deal, just something he had waited his entire life for. He felt like he could take a deep breath and soar right out the window and into the night sky full of stars. Like a dragon, really.

But if he did that, he wouldn’t get knighted, so no way was he going anywhere.

All day, he paced and wandered here and there, readjusting his armor – because yes, he wore his armor; he was being knighted, after all – and fingering the silver dragon amulet around his neck, grinning at basically everyone who so much as threw him a look.

Then, things started getting quiet, because the royals went and took their seats on their respective thrones. King Aetius raised a hand from the armrest, and that alone was enough to get the room’s attention. Somehow.

“Let us come together,” he said.

Without word or question, as if in one great, practiced movement, everyone in the great hall assembled. They came out of their chosen corners and away from various presumably – but probably not really – interesting conversations to gather along the sides of the deep blue rug running the length of the room.

And Tom suddenly realized, Oh, hell, what am I supposed to do?

Now it seemed like a really good idea to have actually done what he was told and paid attention at the one other knighting ceremony he had ever attended. But that was quite a while ago, and all he remembered was paying attention to Queen Illikoni instead of anything else going on – so here he was left with only a few ideas of what to do, and he kept second-guessing about all of them. Was he even remembering it right?

For a moment or two he stood there feeling like an exceptional idiot, shifting around in his sleeveless jerkin and he was definitely sweating and what was he going to do, walk up there, or what? Did he wait for her to say something first? Why wasn’t there a rehearsal for this or something? If he screwed up, he would be the biggest dumb—

Silently, Caiden stepped up on his right, and Tom felt a heavy hand land on his shoulder and give it a quick squeeze. Thankfully not the I-have-giant-angry-vices-for-hands squeeze like back in the swamp.

For some reason, it actually kind of helped him swallow his nerves.

“Easy,” Caiden said, low, just behind his head. Okay, behind and a little above his head; who let this guy be so tall? “They’ll call you.”

Tom took a deep, deep breath and nodded. Sure. Call. My name, right? Yeah, what else would they call, you moron?

Way too many more moments passed mostly in silence as everyone found a spot that wasn’t too close to the center of the room. Then, finally, Queen Illikoni spoke.

“We ask that Thomakos Drake approach the throne.”

Tom felt every single organ in his entire body violently tie into a good two dozen knots at least, and yet not entirely in a bad way, but, gods, his nerves were on fire. He took another one of those deep breaths to try to stop his hands from shaking as he straightened himself up even more and stepped onto that carpet in the middle of the room.

Everyone was watching him already. Not that he hadn’t fully expected that. Somehow, though, now that it was happening, it made some kind of hot pride swell in his chest that chewed up all the jitters. In fact, his lips twitched, and he fought not to grin. That would be inappropriate. Right?

Each step toward the throne felt like it put the royals farther away. Each long stride made him keep holding his breath, until he wondered if his lungs would burst before he even made it to the thrones where his King and Queen sat, watching him with eyes attentive to his every single move.

His King and Queen. The ones who had dedicated their lives to this city, his home. Who watched over it every day, tirelessly. Not like the stuffy nobles down south who sat in their castles high above everyone else – not like the ones who refused to ride out and do battle to protect the people they served by governing them.

No, these were the rulers of Illikon, of the Northwestern Empire. A king and queen who knew the value of nobility. Of what was good and just. The ones he had waited to kneel before and accept the burden of knighthood for what felt like so long. Before that, he had only dreamed of the mere possibility. It had felt like an impossibility.

The impossibility of actually doing this: swearing himself to a code, living by honor and by the sword. Putting others before himself and being known, being recognized, as a warrior who did that willingly, whenever someone so much as saw those dragons emblazoned over his chest. To see the dragon, see him, and know they would be safe soon enough.

And now he stopped before the thrones, bowed his head, and lowered himself to one knee. He heard Queen Illikoni rise from her throne, heard the royal guard just off to their right move, offering her a royal sword of the Illikoni line.

The silence in the hall was shattered briefly by the singing of a blade leaving its sheath. Tom didn’t have to look up to imagine her with it: the Queen of Illikon, gilded sword in hand, her attire of deep blue, of sapphires and gold and jewels and the fur over her shoulders, standing tall and proud as she turned to face him, her flowing dress trailing the floor.

But Tom didn’t move. He stayed there, head bowed low, eyes fixed only on the floor – no matter how much he wanted to look up. Not this time.

The cold metal of that sword’s blade touched his right shoulder, lingering.

“Thomakos Vincentius Draconius… Your squirehood is hereby concluded.”

The blade moved, touched his left shoulder instead and came to a rest there.

“Rise a knight,” she said, and the blade lifted once again. Tom lifted his head, and on legs no longer shaking, rose to his feet before her.

This time, Tom clearly saw her smiling as she turned her attention out toward the hall and spoke again.

“We announce to you Sir Tom Drake,” said the Queen, “a knight of Illikon.”

Tom still felt like he could fly on invisible wings of sheer pride and joy.

Regardless, though, things seemed to progress pretty much as he had expected after that: lots of people congratulating him, others telling him this was all totally wrong and what a mockery of knighthood to let some half-Nordling street-urchin bastard son take up this mantle.

Except, apparently, the ceremonies weren’t over. A few moments later, once the excitement of Tom’s being knighted was over for absolutely everyone but him – because this was a high he would be riding for at least a year – King Illikoni lifted his hand again.

“Let us once more come together.”

That seemed to take everybody by surprise, since the shuffling to get into place was a little hastier and more confused than before. But they got it done, and this time Tom ended up standing near the thrones.

At least until Queen Illikoni turned and looked him right in the eye, saying, “Sir Tom, please rise before us and present those who aided you in the rescue of the villagers from Eloh.”

Tom blinked. For a second, his mind completely ground to a halt and then slowly started falling apart. Thankfully, he managed to quickly pick up the pieces.

He stepped out before the royals again and bowed his head briefly before he said, “I present Caiden Voros of Redfield, Gwenevere Vergil of Piera, and Ceri Meadowlark of the Shadowvale.”

Oh, the voices that arose in the room then. Whispers filled every single corner as a man who towered over the average Northman stepped up, and so did a very out-of-place wood elf with a very out-of-place name, along with Gwen, who frankly was the only one who didn’t quite stick out like a sore thumb. She looked almost more nervous because of it.

The three of them lined up in a neat row right behind Tom and knelt.

“You are, each of you, regardless of name, status, or birthplace,” King Illikoni said, “heroes in the eyes of Illikon, and heroes are to be justly rewarded.”

“Sir Tom,” the Queen continued, “has received his reward. But what would you ask of Illikon? Rise, and tell us how we might thank those who would risk their lives for our people.”

Ceri jumped up almost instantly and said, “I want a horse.”

Silence fell across the room even heavier than before. Lots of people were probably busy exchanging looks and feeling awkward an elf was here at all. The Marks family were all busy pulling at their collars, furious that some crazy little nymph from the woods would get a royal steed from Illikon’s stables out of all this.

Not the Illikon royalty, though. They didn’t care. Queen Illikoni nodded, but before she could speak, Ceri blurted something else.

“And riding lessons.” She paused again, maybe half a second, before pointing at Tom. “From him.”

Alright, that just made him grin.

“Do you agree to this, Sir Tom?” asked the Queen, turning those bright blue eyes to him instead. Tom bowed his head again in an instant.

“I do, your Grace.”

“Then it will be done. And what would the Venatori ask of Illikon?”

Gwen was the next to speak. She did so with a tiny step forward, hands balled into nervous fists before she made herself relax enough to manage a stiff bow.

“I would ask only for a copy of the largest bestiary in the royal library, your Grace,” she said.

Queen Illikoni looked intrigued, from the way her eyebrows rode up high on her face and she pensively touched a finger to her lips.

“Very well,” she said. “It will be done. And what…”

Voices lifted all around the great hall, first by the door and then spreading like wildfire toward the back of the room and the thrones. Leading the voices was a man dressed in simple clothes spattered with mud and grime, looking exhausted and red in the eyes. Whoever he was, Tom imagined his horse looked a hell of a lot worse. And, really, that kind of upset him.

“Your Grace—Graces!” he sputtered, dropping to a kneel so fast he very nearly fell flat on his face. “I bring an urgent message from Stonebridge!”

“Speak,” the King said immediately.

“A monster – a monster under the bridge! It attacked in the night, destroyed a caravan – then i-it left; we don’t know where it went!”

Tom couldn’t help but glance in Caiden and Gwen’s direction, and it didn’t take a genius to know the whole rest of the room was doing the same right now. Even Gwen turned to her partner, and Tom saw one of Caiden’s eyes twitch just before he turned to the King and Queen.

“We can handle this, your Grace,” he said. “We’ll be on the road south in the morning either way.”

Queen Illikoni nodded and stood. Instantly, the entire great hall fell to one knee, but she lifted a hand and said, “Please, remain standing. King Aetius and I now descend to join the festivities.”

That seemed to lighten the mood at least a little, even if everyone was still yammering about the monster. Going mostly unnoticed in the hubbub, some guards helped the messenger up and showed him to a place to stay.

Tom didn’t even have to move before Queen Illikoni brushed right past him. She offered him a nod and a smile on her way over to Caiden, who turned to face her and blinked in confusion.

“You did not tell us what you want from Illikon,” the Queen said rather simply.

Caiden swallowed in a way that almost made Tom think even he got nervous sometimes, but he shrugged. “Illikon can owe me one.”

She chuckled quietly. “A wise choice. We wish you safety on your journey to Stonebridge, and we ask the Venatori to relay to us what happens there. If there is anything more you would ask of Illikon before you depart, any of you,” she said, glancing over the lot of them, “you need only say it.”

With that, she gave a low nod of her head and seemed to glide away like a divine being that didn’t belong here, slumming it with smelly, selfish mortals. Tom stared after her for a moment or two before he realized Caiden and Gwen and Ceri were getting away.

So he had to go catch them, of course. As it turned out, though, Gwen left to disappear in the direction of the royal library, while Ceri split off from everyone else to sneak around behind some of the fancier-dressed nobles. At least until Caiden got to her first, hooked a hand under her arm, and dragged her off – before disappearing to the buffet table, himself.

The rest of the night went a lot like that, really.

Tom might have stayed way too long at the party and also drank way too much and then even spent way too much time in bed, where he of course wasn’t alone, and…

And he might have even done all those things to the point that, by the time he reached the Silver Stein the following morning, Caiden and Gwen had already set out. Luckily for him, he had one of the fastest horses in the kingdom. If you asked him, it was absolutely the fastest.

His stallion, sleek and solid black except for a white forehead star standing out bright like a beacon, had never let him down. Even if it had a tendency to throw anybody but him and bite at everybody else, but that was fine. Sure, everyone constantly told him he was crazy to ride a horse that temperamental. He didn’t care, though.

So he set out, just him and Ghost – that was the horse. Sometimes they even had conversations, and he got better conversations out of that horse than he did half the people at all the various gatherings of nobles.

Up ahead, he saw two riders taking their time along the dirt road cutting through the vast, open Plains of Illikon that rippled gentle golden waves all around them. The breeze brought with it the scent of fresh grass and the distant brine, not to mention Ghost’s sturdy smell of horse hanging around.

Tom sucked in a deep breath, letting his eyes fall shut and basking in those familiar smells while Ghost continued up along the road. The smells of the Northwest – all of them. The best smells.

That didn’t last long, though. When he opened his eyes, released that breath, and took another, he smelled something else: leather, steel, sword oil, and… rain? That particular smell of a rainy day.

He came up pretty fast on Caiden and Gwen, both their horses – blood bay and palomino, respectively – going at a leisurely walk. There was no mistaking Caiden, on horseback or otherwise, from any distance. He had to be almost seven feet tall, or maybe even actually seven feet tall. His shoulders were so broad and his entire frame so heavy with muscle that Tom knew it had to be a beast of a horse to carry him as easily as it did.

One thing was for sure: Gwen had gotten herself an intimidating partner.

The Venatori turned their heads to give Tom looks as he slowed Ghost right by Caiden’s side. Gwen had to lean forward around Caiden to see, and Tom flashed both of them a quick grin.

“Hi,” he said. And without waiting for prompting, he added, “I’m coming with you. Never know when you might need a hand, and who’s better than a knight, huh?”

Caiden cocked his head at him just a little but didn’t exactly look mad, and Gwen smiled. “Are you sure you aren’t just curious what kind of monster it is?” she teased.

Tom shrugged. “Okay, fair; that too.”

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

“And satisfaction brought him back,” Tom retorted instantly. “Besides, I’m a dragon, not a cat.”

Caiden snorted.

“What was that, Caid?”

That earned Tom another look, but Caiden said, “Having dragons on your armor doesn’t make you a dragon.”

“Hey, I never said it did. I do have dragon blood, though.”

Caiden’s stare lingered on him briefly, and did he ever have heavy eyes. Stormy blue eyes that had seen a lot more than Tom ever had, and probably a whole lot more than he ever wanted to see. Heavy stare, too. Tom actually squirmed a little in the saddle.

Caiden’s heavy brow got a touch bunched up. “What?”

“Dragon blood. My family was a bunch of red dragons, a few generations back.”

The look Caiden gave him then would have said he believed him about as far as he could throw him, except Tom imagined Caiden could throw basically anything really, really far, so maybe it was a little different than that.

“They say things like that are… possible,” Gwen put in hesitantly.

So then Tom spent the rest of that day talking about dragons pretty much the entire time they rode. Caiden never had much to add, but he stayed there stuck in the middle between Tom and Gwen while they kept yammering. He was definitely learning a lot, though.

It took about a day and a half to ride down there at this rate, but the ride was nice. True, it was one of his favorite pastimes: riding around the Northwest. Still, the skies were clear, the air was crisp…

And Gwen was really fun to talk to, because she loved reading almost as much as he did. Caiden, though? He seemed pretty distant. Literally and figuratively, because the night they made camp, he did that thing again where he camped a long way off by himself.

Meanwhile, Gwen busied herself reading that massive bestiary Queen Illikoni gave her, and Tom spent the night lying flat on his back on a hillside and looking up at the stars… and at the distant silhouette of Illikon, standing tall and proud on the horizon and crowned by the towering peaks of the castle, all of it set against the backdrop of the glassy, moonlit sea.

Even when Caiden and Gwen were – presumably, anyway – asleep, Tom lay there and practically waited until morning. Because who would want to sleep away the night – the best time of day? Except night wasn’t day, but that was just nitpicking.

He had way too much energy to sleep.

When they arrived in Stonebridge, Tom felt almost disappointed and already wanted to hit the road again. But only almost, because Stonebridge was so… quaint. In a nice way.

The nearer they drew to the river, the greener the golden grasses of the plains became. When they reached Stonebridge, they rode down a knoll toward a little town nestled snug against the river on the wide swaths of emerald green grass. From the top of a cresting hill on the Plains, it looked almost unrealistically picturesque. Tom stopped Ghost for a second just to take it all in. He had been to Stonebridge once before, sure, but he didn’t remember it much, and he had definitely forgotten all the details. Like the smell of fresh grass – a little different than the way the grass elsewhere on the Plains smelled, but how, Tom couldn’t really put to words. And the gentle bubbling of the various eddies in the Ilfarius River just beyond the south end of the town, its banks built up with smooth, round stones.

He had forgotten, too, the way the thatched-roof houses sat so neatly together, a bit more spread out than most Imperial towns: a blacksmith, stables, a very large tavern, a few homes with windowsills full of brightly blooming flowers of various blues, purples, and pinks. All of it interconnected by dirt roads and paths, trodden flat and hard by boot and hoof alike.

And beyond that cozy town stood its namesake – a tall, wide, and sturdy bridge made of pale grey stone. The highway that led deeper into the Empire, south out of the ‘untamed’ Northwest and toward what so many others considered to be true civilization. Continue far enough south, and that road would lead you all the way through the Black Lands, down past Caltha and the grand tournament of the gladiator games, all the way into the Achaean Heartland and to the capital itself.

Tom frowned. He’d never really seen that much of the Empire proper.

But right now, he had other things to focus on: like the fact that Caiden and Gwen had already ridden down the hill toward town, either taking in the view as they went or else too busy thinking about the mission to really notice. Tom didn’t have to think hard to guess which one did which.

Okay, maybe that was a little presumptive of him, but anyway…

Setting Ghost off after them, Tom kept glancing around. Flowers grew long from the windowsills and stared with lovely, colorful faces out at the passers-by. They actually kind of helped the streets smell less like sweaty workers and mules, both of which seemed to occupy the place in droves.

“So, where to first?” asked Tom, tilting his head as he gave the two Venatori a look.

“The local ruler, whoever that is,” Gwen said. “Any idea who’s in charge here?”

“Sure. That’d be Count Nosenthal, and he probably lives in whatever building around here is the same size as his ego.”

Caiden’s eyes cut to him for half a second in what Tom could only think of as a look, and Tom promptly stuck his tongue out at him. Sure, he got Caiden’s meaning, but that didn’t make Nosenthal’s ego any smaller.

“So, you know him?” said Caiden.

“‘Know’ is a strong word, but hey, I’ve seen him hanging around at a few stuffy noble gatherings I get dragged into, and he’s got more ass in him than any of the mules in that stable.”

Caiden sighed quietly – and Gwen snickered.

But just like he expected, finding the Count wasn’t hard at all. They asked one guy on the street and got directed to, guess what? Yeah, the biggest building in the town.

They hitched the horses at the local inn and walked there, since the poor animals deserved a break. Tom readjusted his breastplate and took his horsehair helmet off his saddle pommel, lowering it onto his head again.

He had to look good and knightly, now didn’t he? Kidding. He always looked knightly. Armor or clothes or no clothes at all.

A pair of guards armed with spears and shields stood on either side of the door, both wearing green gambesons decorated in patterns of grey mules. Tom had always wondered why the symbol of Stonebridge was a mule of all things, but then he remembered just how many he had already seen on his way through town.

Guess they really liked mules. Probably the biggest center for mules in the Empire.

As they approached, the guards eyed them lazily from under their ugly little kettle helmets dotted in rust that told stories of a lack of care. They focused on the Venatori first, before their eyes lingered on Tom in particular, since he was the one wearing armor and looking fancy. Not to mention charming.

Not that these guys looked like they would know charming if it slapped them across the face.

“The Count’s not taking visitors,” one guard said flatly.

“Great,” Tom replied, “I don’t really blame him, considering his monster problem. Lucky for you, we aren’t visitors. We’re aid from Illikon.”

They blinked at him dumbly. Caiden and Gwen did too, but without the dumb part. And Caiden without the blinking part – he mostly just kind of stared, stern and steady.

Oh, right, were they supposed to do the talking? Whoops.

Tom gestured with one hand to try to jog the guards’ memories and their blank eyes, maybe knock something loose. “You know. Messenger. Horse. Real frantic, ran right into the castle sputtering about some kind of monster.”

“Ah, yes,” one guard blurted, “the Count mentioned he was sending word to Illikon. And…” a frown drew creases all over his face, “you’re the backup.”

“You can’t ask for much better than a pair of Venatori and an Illikon knight, pal. What were you hoping for, an army?”

The guard opened his mouth again, but all he did was shrug.

“Sure,” Tom went on, “so anyway, we’ve got to talk to Count Nosenthal.”

“As I said, Sir, he isn’t taking guests.”

Tom quirked a brow. “Uh-huh, I think we covered that. He summoned us here. What’re you gonna do, turn us away?”

“Not I, Sir, but the Count is. He said no visitors, no guests – he’s seeing no one while he makes arrangements on how to fight the beast.”

“We are his arrangements,” Tom muttered.

Caiden turned to the guard and said, “Tell us about this monster.”

“No idea what it was,” the guard replied, giving Caiden a look up and down, eyes landing on the Venator brooch, notably dropping that Sir he afforded Tom.

Tom caught himself bristling enough for the hairs on his neck to start sticking up like hackles.

“Came out in the night,” the guard went on, “appeared on the bridge and tore up a caravan. Everyone was asleep – me included – and came out to see the commotion. Whatever it is, it’s big.”

“Did it kill anyone?”

That got the guards to pause, exchange looks, and shrug again.

“Not that I know of,” said the less talkative one.

“Right.” Caiden turned then and started to leave, everything about his posture saying he was done here and without so much as a thanks, see you.

Not that those guards really deserved one, the way they looked at those Venator brooches. What was with people, anyway?

“Try not to get your thumbs stuck too far up your asses out here, boys,” Tom said, shooting a quick and completely sloppy salute off his brow before he pivoted and followed Caiden, a silent Gwen trailing along after him.

So there was a monster threat, and those guys were just standing there guarding a count who didn’t want to be bothered even meeting the backup he’d called for. Great.

“Where’re we headed?” Tom said once he caught up, hanging out near Caiden’s left and eying him.

“To the bridge, I assume?” Gwen asked almost tentatively, like she was afraid something about Caiden was delicate and might snap, from the way she side-eyed him with her face a little low. She seemed worried. Even if Tom was terrible at reading people, but hey, some people were just… readable.

And other people smelled funny. Or – off. Right now, Gwen smelled off. Just a little hint, like a pinch in her normally nice scent of roses and leather. Pinch of what? Hell if he knew. In fact, all of that made absolutely no sense now that he thought about it.

“Yeah,” Caiden replied as he continued to lead the way. He looked like a siege tower when they passed through crowds, tall enough that no one could possibly lose him and clearing a nice path for anybody who followed.

Not that Tom couldn’t do that too. Caiden was just… Fine, okay – he was taller.

The walk to the bridge didn’t take them long, and when they got there, they found still more guards in their green gambesons wandering around and keeping everyone away from it. That meant the best means of passage deeper into the Empire was cut off right now, which made all this a little – actually, a lot – more urgent than Tom had realized.

Trade, travel, all of it stood completely still. They needed to fix this fast.

These watchmen at least seemed on point, unlike the ones at the Count’s place. A few words exchanged with them, and the three companions soon walked onto the broad stone bridge, looking around.

Signs of whatever had happened became evident almost immediately: splinters of wood littered this way and that, a few broken boards, a wrecked cart, some busted-open crates… and what looked and smelled like a smear of now fairly old blood painting a hideous, black-red swath over the otherwise very clean and well-kept stonework.

“I thought they said it didn’t kill anyone?” Gwen said as she knelt, looking at the stain.

“People,” Caiden replied, “but not animals.”

“Then it smashed a cart, killed whatever was pulling it, but the people got away.”

“Okay, so – where’s the animal pulling it?” Tom said, pacing around until he reached one side of the bridge, leaned forward on the railing, and looked down at the peaceful blue of the river. It would have been nice here without the threat of being suddenly smashed to bits by a monster.

“The monster carried it off,” Caiden answered as he rose from where he had been kneeling over the blood. “Somewhere… Not far.” He glanced at the blood again and scowled.

And he said something else, and so did Gwen, but Tom didn’t really listen. Because he heard something else entirely: movement, coming from under their feet.

That was what it sounded like, anyway. Something way too big and way too heavy shifting around and some rocks shifting with it, grinding against each other. Then the quiet splash of a stray pebble.

Without even glancing back at Caiden and Gwen, Tom went closer to the southern end of the bridge, where he saw a rocky outcropping reaching out from the bank. He vaulted right over the railing, his boots landing hard on river stones – dry ones. They led him along a surprisingly wide path, right into the shadows under the high stone arches of the bridge.

But here in the thick darkness provided by the structure overhead – plus various reeds and reaching tree branches on either side of it all – his feet still found rocks instead of water. No, the river was lazily drifting by under the bridge off to his right somewhere, making this a nice little secluded shelter.

A second or two later, his eyes adjusted like they always did, and he saw… nothing in particular, really. Nothing that looked alive, anyway. Just a massive boulder big enough that maybe he had finally found something even Caiden couldn’t lift up. Maybe.

In fact, it looked completely out of place and just plain weird. It was jagged and rough, not worn smooth like the river stones, but it seemed almost too round otherwise. Tilting his head, Tom took a step closer and ran a finger along one of the ugly cracks running down the stone’s side.

Just when he wondered if somebody had put this massive rock here for a reason, or if a chunk of mountain had happened to fall off and get stranded here on this little embankment and they built the bridge over it anyway, that giant stone he poked came to life.

It didn’t much like being touched, either.

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