Thunder clapped, deafeningly loud in the tavern’s enclosed space. The bolt slammed into the dragon, which stumbled back, letting out a pitiful cry. A black mark marred its red scales where the bolt impacted, and lightning arced over its body. The magic building up in its chest began to dissipate.

“Dammit, I can’t critical-cast with a single page. Give back my tome!” Gideon insisted, reaching for the book.

“How did you even—” Jet started, then remembered the sparks around Gideon on the execution stand. Dammit, he must have had a page secreted somewhere on him, like I suspected.

“Don’t worry about that. Tome!”

“Stand back. I’ll pin it down!” Jet shouted, raising his sword. Internally, sweat dripped down his back. A lesser dragon, against a paladin and a mage? We’re screwed.

“Idiot, what’s the point? I can take it out in one shot if you just give me—that… tome!” Gideon lunged and grabbed onto the book, jerking Jet backward.

The lesser dragon shook its head and began to climb upright, recovering from the blow. Slit eyes settled on Gideon, and it let out a hideous hiss.

“Fine. We’ll see if you’re all you’re chalked up to be,” Jet replied. He pulled a strap, releasing the tome from his belt. If I don’t give it back, we’re both toast. I don’t trust him, but I’m backed into a corner here!

Gideon grabbed it and cradled it to his chest like a baby. “My sweet tome, back in daddy’s hands at last…I missed you so much!”

The dragon charged Jet, slithering inside with startling speed. It darted out its neck and bit at him.

Jet raised his blade at the last second, stabbing toward the inside of the dragon’s mouth. The dragon retreated its head, dodging his blow. Jet’s eyes flickered, and the blue light on the blade pulsed. A blast of ice leaped from the tip of his sword and smashed into the dragon’s mouth. It snapped its mouth shut, shattering the ice, and growled low in its throat. Heat wavered over its chest scales.

“Well?” Jet snapped.

Gideon held out the tome, letting the pages rustle open. A thousand shining silver spells slipped by. At last, the pages settled on a spell toward the front of the tome. Two pages burned, black turning to ash. “Critical-cast! Lightning!”

Gideon’s eyes sparked with lightning. Slender bolts flew up his arm, dancing from the massive pulse of lightning building in the spell inscribed on the page. Gideon stepped forward. “Die, dragon, die!”

A bolt of lightning as thick as his arm smashed into the dragon. It trembled, then fell to the floor, convulsing. Lightning coursed over its body, flickering back and forth a few times before it settled. The heat building up inside the dragon detonated with a thump, puffing its chest from the inside.

Its head plopped to the ground, eyes dull. It twitched one last time, then laid there, dead.

Jet stared, amazed. One blow killed the dragon. One single spell. I’ve seen lesser dragons killed before, but it takes an entire party hammering at it from all sides. Usually, no one would dare go up against a lesser dragon alone, and yet, he killed it in one shot! Well, two shots, but still! That’s… almost impossible. I would have thought it was impossible, until today.

Maybe… taking down the True Dragon… is possible, after all.

“The High God herself would not suffer dragons to live. They exist in defiance with the heavens. Thus, lightning shall forever strike them down, and wreak havoc upon scaled beasts as no other magic shall,” Gideon murmured under his breath, stepping toward the dragon. He kicked its head. The dragon’s eyes didn’t flicker, head lolling on its spine.

“I didn’t take you for a religious man,” Jet commented.

“Only when it serves my purposes,” Gideon chuckled.

Figures, Jet thought, rolling his eyes.

Gideon knelt and patted the dragon’s scales, smiling to himself. “There’s some fine money to be made here. Dragon pelt’s worth decent gold. Really, my only regret about that town is that I didn’t incite them into dragon form before killing them. I would’ve made tons of money th—”

Jet’s sword appeared at his neck. “One more word.”

“Dragons. They. Were. Dragons. I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a hundred times. I don’t want to kill random people, I only want to kill dragons, dammit! I figured out their secret, and they want to kill me for it!” Gideon growled, annoyed.

Jet narrowed his eyes. “Dragons can’t turn into people.”

“And that’s what I’m telling you, you’re wrong! They can, I’ve seen it. They—”

Jet pressed the blade into his throat.

Gideon threw his hands up silently, rolling his eyes. Jet sheathed his blade.

“If I haven’t figured out their secret, then why did that dragon try to kill me just now?” Gideon asked, crossing his arms smugly.

Jet frowned. “From the sound of it, you’ve killed many dragons. I can imagine you probably reek of dragon-blood. Dragons are known to hunt down those who kill their brethren.”

“Well… yeah, that’s true,” Gideon allowed. He huffed, frustrated.

“Besides, you do realize that the king keeps a stable of wyverns, right? If dragons could turn into humans, don’t you think the wyverns would let themselves out of the stables at night? Wander around, hunt the king’s deer? Goodness knows they already do enough of that as beasts. If they could become men as well...” Jet trailed off, shaking his head.

Gideon waved his hand. “Wyverns are different. I don’t like them, but they’re basically animals. They can’t turn into humans. I’m not suggesting that those little goose-sized drakes turn into humans, either. That would be ridiculous. And don't even get me started on wyrms. It’s only lesser dragons and dragons stronger than them that possess the power of human transformation.”

“Oh, so drakes and wyverns turning into humans is ridiculous, but lesser dragons, that’s reasonable,” Jet mocked. “They’re animals too, lesser dragons. Wily, ferocious predators that deserve our respect the same way lions and tigers do, but no more than that.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Gideon muttered, climbing to his feet. He brushed off his tattered robes and sighed. “After the library, we need to stop by a tailor. These robes are just…”

“They’re fine enough clothes for a prisoner,” Jet replied haughtily. I know I shouldn’t hold a grudge against a prisoner like this, but he’s too damn annoying not to!

Gideon narrowed his eyes and shook a finger at Jet. “When you say that kind of nonsense, it really makes me want to not cooperate with you.”

Jet sighed deeply.

“Speaking of wyverns… why don’t we take a wyvern to the True Dragon? That would be the fastest way to get there. I mean, I don’t mind if it takes a little more time, but…”

Jet shook his head. “Wyverns are touchy animals, like pegasai. Unlike pegasai, who only bond to women, wyverns will bond to men or women, but they won’t let anyone except their bound rider ride them.”

“Damn dragons,” Gideon muttered under his breath.

"You didn't know that? Aren't you the guy who knows so much about dragons, he even knows their ultimate secret?" Jet asked, unable to hold back the barb.

Gideon gave him a look, then sighed, spreading his hands as if to say, how could I expect mere mortals to understand? "I only care about killing dragons. I really couldn't care less when it comes to dragon-lovers and the futzy details about their precious wyverns."

Jet opened his mouth to retort, but then shrugged. It's not worth it.

Townsfolk began to climb out from wherever they’d hid while the dragon was attacking and look around. A few approached the dragon’s corpse, some even daring to reach out and poke it with sticks. The drunks emerged from crouching under their tables, and the gamblers and the tavernkeeper peeked out from the back. At the sight of the devastation to his tavern, the tavernkeeper paled.

Jet raised his hood, motioning for Gideon to do the same. “I’ll speak with the tavernkeeper about splitting the price of the dragon’s body, and then we’ll go ahead to the library.”

“Splitting the price?” Gideon said, taken aback.

Jet pointed at the wall, torn open by the dragon, then gestured around them. Sunlight beamed in through the broken wall, illuminating the dust hanging on the air, the overturned tables, the floorboards pierced by dragon claws. Black marks here and there singed the tables, walls, and floors where bits of Gideon’s lightning attack had grounded themselves along the way to strike the dragon.

Gideon frowned. “That’s his problem, not mine.”

Jet raised the pendant.

“Alright, fine, whatever. Tyrant. You’re no better than a dragon,” Gideon grumbled, crossing his arms.