Well, Axtara thought as she flew through the clear sky. Elnacier may be remote, but it looks incredible. She’d passed into the murky gray area between it and the nearest “civilized” kingdom an hour or so earlier. Murky and grey in the legal sense, or perhaps on a discolored map. In person however, it was …

  Breathtaking. And not just because of the scents, though those were indeed amazing. She kept taking deep breaths whenever she got the chance, the rich scents of pine and mountain air flooding her nostrils with a sharp, cool twinge. There were deeper scents buried beneath as well, rich and earthy. Or musky with game, a scent that made her thoughts turn to a fresh roast and her tired wings beg for a break.

  But she was almost there, now. Just keep going. She beat her wings again, rising slightly through the air. The clear sky gave her a perfect view of the mountainous countryside she was currently flying over. Down below, she could see winding paths poking through titanic evergreens and pine, twisting like snakes across the countryside. Some were old and overgrown, but there was one that was cleared and well-kept. And if her eyesight was any judge at the altitude she was currently flying, fairly new as well.

  Which made sense. It was the main—and only—road that led to the capital of the Kingdom of Elnacier at the moment. As well as to several other small towns that occupied the frontier past the center of the kingdom.

  Well, not center, Axtara thought as she adjusted her course slightly. More like … an umbrella of some kind. Or maybe a jellyfish. Only with one tendril. I think? Having never actually seen a jellyfish, it was hard to say. But she had seen pictures of the strange creatures before.

  Likely not a perfect comparison, then. But close enough. She’d already passed over a small hamlet that, according to her maps, was called “Frederickstown.” Unsurprisingly “Frederick’s town” on older copies, and in both instances it used the term “town” with a great degree of latitude given its size, but …

  The road was the easiest landmark to follow from the air and, while she had a compass, it was much easier to simply locate something on the ground and use it as a guide. Especially now that there was only one official “road” for her to follow.

  Another gust of wind soared past her, carrying with it an array of scents, sharp and rich. Her stomach growled in response to one of them, and again she was reminded of how long she’d been flying.

  You can eat and rest when you get to your house, she thought, powering ahead. Your house, with a fully-stocked larder, and space to stretch your wings, and … The smile on her face grew despite her fatigue. Better to wait when you’re so close, rather than spend an hour or two in the dirt after catching and cooking something to eat.

  Still, the temptation to take a break, even a short one, was high. Her muscles ached in a way she hadn’t felt since she was young, the result of days filled with flying and little else over thousands of miles. In the old days, the distance would have easily been twice that, but she’d been able to book passage on one of the new “steam engines” that ran on rails to cross much of the central nations. Passage on a canal boat, though slow, had saved her another few hundred.

  But then she’d reached the frontier states. Or duchies. Or whatever else they chose to call themselves. And the truest benefits of civilization had ground to a halt, leaving her no other choices than to walk, hire a wagon, or fly.

  And if you have wings … Axtara thought with another hard downbeat. Why not?

  Or I guess magic, but … Magic studies had never really been her strong point. Her older brother’s yes, but not her own. The magic of an abacus and a neatly arranged ledger was far more appealing than the mental gymnastics her brother had leapt through just to be able to turn the lamps on and off.

  And hiring wizards is expensive. There wouldn’t be any of those in the Kingdom of Elnacier anytime soon. Not unless one of them wanted to get very far away from what was considered civilization.

  Very, very far, Axtara thought as she went into a steady glide, glancing down below to confirm she was still following the lone road as it wound through the pines. The numbers were a lot smaller when they were just spaces on a map. Her smile faded somewhat. I should have seen the irony there, given my job.

  Satisfied that she was still on course, she let herself take another long, lazy gaze at the mountainous country around her. The road she was following wound its way through a long, wide valley between two small mountains. Not flat, but certainly wide. If her reading of the map was accurate, once it rounded the mountain to her left, there would only be a few dozen more miles to cover before she arrived at Elnacier itself. The capital “city” of the kingdom.

  From there, the main road would branch out in several directions, running to both the coast and most of the other nearby settlements. Well, towns. As the residents saw them. But they were definitely settlements.

  For now. With a stable hand over things, and the many abundant resources around her, it was only a matter of time. And the first one to provide banking services that isn’t the king will be in a very good position. Her smile blossomed again, a small squeal of excitement almost leaking out of her throat. And that’ll be me!

  She was starting to smell a new scent now, layered in with the sharp pines and evergreens of the forest-covered mountains and the rich, deep earth. A subtle scent that teased at her nostrils and brought to mind memories of a trip to see her older sister.

  Ocean. She was close enough now to Elnacier to smell the sea that lay beyond it. Quite a few miles beyond it, but as high as she was, the faint scent of salt was still reaching her.

  A brief bit of bare stone caught her eye as she continued on over the forest. The remains of a tower, long since crumbled. Ruins from the long-vanished Ancient people that had once ruled huge swaths of the continent.

  Or something like that anyway. Historians suspected that where Elnacier now stood there had once been a large city of some kind, because there were apparently old ruins all over the mountains. But until recently, no one had really concerned themselves with them.

  Thankfully, there had not been any ruins encountered in the construction of her new home. Which … She looked ahead. Should be coming into view soon. There was one more low mountain—more a hill, really—and then she would, if she remembered her map correctly, be able to see Elnacier.

  She clenched and relaxed her forepaws, whipping the tip of her tail back and forth with excitement despite the slight shimmy it put into her flight. I’m almost there! Almost!

  Sure enough, she could smell faint twinges of woodsmoke now, and as she drew nearer and nearer, she could see small clearings in the woods with faint hazes above them. Outlying farms, or maybe hunters, or tanners, or … Who knew! I’m on the edge of civilization!

  This time she did let out a small squeal of excitement, unable to contain it as ahead of her, the distant horizon took on a grey shade. Not the grey of a storm, but the grey of ocean clouds meeting an endless sea.

  She was close. Very close.

  About time too. I feel like I could sleep for a whole day.

  She could clearly make out farms and farmland now. Breaks in the trees, growing more and more frequent as she followed the main road. Some were set near it, others a bit further away.

  Eventually, the road joined up with a small river, both meeting and moving through the middle of the valley. She recognized the river from her map. Once it met with the road, she was close. Extremely close. In fact, I might be able to see— There it is!

  Ahead of her, almost a smudge even with her sharp vision, but growing clearer by the second was Elnacier. The city. Or … decently sized, maybe smallish, town.

  But there it was. There was no mistaking the rolling hills around it, smoother than the more rugged terrain of the nearby mountains. Nor the river that cut through its southern edge. Or the decently sized manor on the north side. Or was it a castle now? Some merchant had built it a few decades back according to what the locals had told her agents, intending to make it a summer home amidst the wilds. They’d lasted a little over a year before abandoning it, and the edifice had remained unoccupied until Adrick Elnacier had declared himself king and moved in.

  Adrick. She rolled the name around in her mind. Not exactly a kingly name … But then, from what my sources told me he’s not exactly the kingly type. Trying, but certainly far less regal than some of the ancient families in the central nations.

  But kings had to start somewhere. Or magistrates. Or nobles. Or merchants. Or bankers. She smiled again. So, can I see …? Her eyes narrowed.

  No, not yet. She wasn’t near enough to make out the faint directions she’d been given to her new home. It was on the east side of Elnacier, beneath a hill in an old cave that had been suitably altered and hollowed out before being furnished in an appropriate manner. There were too many trees and too much distance yet to be able to spot it.

  But she could see Elnacier. It was … smaller … than she’d expected. And spread out. Without much regard for pattern or layout, as far as she could tell from her distance. Likely because it had sprung up without any sense of direction.

  She could feel the strain growing on her wings. It was a good thing that she was so close. As it was, she would probably feel the effects of her long journey for a day or two to come.

  She was flying over farmland now, dogs barking beneath her. She caught sight of a few pointing fingers, and some wide-eyed expressions.

  When was the last time any of these people saw a dragon? she wondered as she passed over another field, her shadow flitting across the treetops. Or have any of them ever?

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  That could make first meetings with them a little … tense. She gave her head a quick shake. I’ll just have to read them carefully, and remember to be as respectful as possible.

  She was getting closer now. The farms and houses were closer together, the forest less thick and showing signs of human presence, especially along the flatter ground. Her eyes could pick out more detail across the town of Elnacier too. It didn’t feel right calling it a “city.” Not when it looked like she could fly from one end to the other in mere moments.

  She pulled her eyes away from the old structures, instead peering at the rugged hills to the east of the town and trying not to flex her claws with excitement. One of them, though she wasn’t sure which yet, was hers.

  About time, too. Her wings felt like they wanted to fall off. She spared another glance at the large stone manor. Should I fly on and introduce myself? It would be the polite thing to do. But at the same time, her wings ached, and she was tired from the tips of her horns to the tip of her tail.

  I probably stink as well, she thought, twisting her head back and looking over her long, slender body. Even flying, she could see where her green scales were dusty and dull, her coloration closer to the pines she was flying over than the vivid shade it would be when properly cared for.

  So … no. She couldn’t visit. It wouldn’t do to appear in the court of the king with her scales dirty and dusty, her body stinking from days of constant flight, and her mind half-fogged with fatigue.

  Well, maybe a quarter fogged. It had been a long journey. Part of her simply wanted to land, eat, and curl up for the rest of the day.

  The hills were closer now. Her agent had done his best to describe what they would look like from the air, but being a human himself, had only been able to give her estimates. Still, it was near the foot of the mountain, with a stream nearby for her cistern. And the front of the home itself was set into a sharp hill, with an open clearing around it …

  Except I see three openings in the trees, Axtara thought as the hills drew closer. She’d angled away from the main road now, finally breaking from her long-held course. A slow glide, gently bleeding away her altitude, was also easier on the wings. Just a little bit closer and …Nope. The first clearing was simply that: an empty glade filled with brush and—her stomach rumbled slightly—a herd of deer, grazing.

  She shoved the hunger aside. You can eat when you reach your new house, she told herself. The larder should be fully stocked.

  And if it wasn’t, then the people she’d made contracts with would quickly learn that it wasn’t wise to try and cheat a banker.

  She was lower now, barely a hundred feet above the treetops. The second clearing was like the first, full of brush and what looked like a large number of berry bushes of some kind. But the third …

  That’s it! She let out an exuberant “Yes!” as she spotted the simple cleared path, the creek on one side … and most importantly of all, the large door set square in the front side of the rocky hill. Her door. To her house.

  She voiced an excited squeal and threw her wings back, going into a steep dive and laughing the whole way. The clearing rushed up at her, and it was only in the last moments that she unfurled her wings wide, beating them in great gusts to slow her descent.

  Then she was touching down, her claws settling on smooth gravel with a faint crunch of shifting rock, her heart pounding even as she folded her tired wings against her sides. Directly in front of her were wide glass windows—the glass imported at great expense from the central kingdoms—and a large, warm wooden door.

  Her door. Her windows.

  My home, she thought, staring at the front door with wide eyes. My very own home. All mine. She could feel her breath coming in shorter, quicker gasps, and not just because she was tired from her flight. This is it. This is it!

  For a moment she simply stood there, basking in it. It wasn’t quite how she’d pictured it in her head, and even though she’d constantly admonished herself that it naturally wouldn’t be exactly as she imagined it, it was still somewhat interesting to see what the differences were.

  She’d been picturing trees atop it, for one. Even though she’d known that there wouldn’t be, that the architect she’d hired had said as much, and she’d even had to pay for the removal of the trees and stumps that had found purchase on the rock, just so that they wouldn’t continue to grow and run the risk of bringing her roof down.

  She’d expected more bare stone across the front as well. Instead, the space around her doorframe and windows was home to quite a bit more wood than she’d expected. Though the garden boxes beneath each windowsill were just what she’d been hoping for, if empty. She’d fill them later.

  The door was a different shade of wood than she’d imagined too. Much darker, with streaks of red in it. The lock was sturdy and large, as was the handle. Perfect for a dragon of her size. Both were made of steel, durable and tough against both wear and tear and any would-be thieves. Polished, they stood out against the wood like beacon lights on a mountaintop.

  She liked it.

  The biggest difference from the image in her mind, however, was the conspicuously empty spot above and to the right of the door. There, a metal signpost was anchored in the rock. Anchored, but empty, lacking any reason for its existence.

  Yet. Axtara smiled as she saw the empty hooks. She’d requested that the builders not put the sign up, since they’d be finishing before she arrived, and instead leave it just inside the door. It wouldn’t do for prospective customers to arrive before she did, after all.

  But with that thought she could already see the front room she’d asked for through the window. And looking was not enough.

  She felt her wings quiver—with exhaustion or excitement, she wasn’t really sure—as she reached for her chest-satchel, undoing the bronze clasps and hunting for something with her talons. She found it almost immediately, unsurprising considering that she’d been looking at it longingly just that morning when she’d devoured her breakfast. A heavy metal key that matched the bright, silvery coloration of the lock on her front door.

  Fighting back a nervous swallow, key in her claws, she stepped forward. Up onto the large stone front porch. Up to the wide, heavy, wooden door. She took a quick, furtive breath, and then slid the key into the lock.

  There was a heavy thunk as she twisted it, and then, breath caught in her throat, she reached out and lifted the handle, hearing an answering click from deep within as it gave.

  The door swung outward on silent hinges. For a moment Axtara stood in complete silence, gaze sweeping across the inside of her home … and then with a shout of joy she bolted past the door, laughing and spinning in a circle as she took in the whole front area.

  It was homey. It was roomy. It was colorful in all the right ways. It was perfect.

  It was hers.

  She came to an excited stop, laughing and carefully shucking her luggage from her back and chest. This is it! She turned her head in every direction, trying to take it all in at once. This is mine! My home! My bank! It was almost too much.

  She slowed, folding her wings back against her sides with an excited tremor. It was even better than she’d imagined. The builders she’d hired had captured all the details perfectly. The wooden moldings around the edge of the room, evocative of her uncle’s bank, were both ideal recreations but also just slightly different, the details taken from what histories she could find of design and tradition in Elnacier. The rest of the room was furnished lightly to look comforting and warm, with what she’d been assured were comfortable wooden chairs and a large sheepskin throw in the middle of the floor that had required the lives of several sheep. The floor itself was made of richly-colored wood—no self-respecting dragon lived on cold stone anymore if they could help it, and when the snows came the stone would indeed be cold—which had been polished to a fine sheen.

  Oh yes, she thought as she caught sight of herself in the polish of the boards. The builders did quite a good job.

  The entry, of course, was only half of the front room. The space she was standing in was roughly oval in shape, determined mostly by the contours of the stone the cave had been formed out of. A few feet in front of her, the walls narrowed slightly, the floor rising in several small steps to—

  “My office.” She said the words aloud as she moved up the steps, claws clicking against the wood. “It’s … perfect.” Just like I imagined it. Her desk was large, with plenty of space for her to lie down at work if she so desired. Indeed, the dyed sheepskin behind it was for exactly that purpose. The desk extended into the wall, with a number of cubbies and shelves for her ledgers and writing implements. She could work facing the wall, or work looking over the desk at a client. Either gave her plenty of space to lay and stretch her wings and tail—unlike her desk at her uncle’s bank, which had been barely large enough for her to sit at, much less lie comfortably.

  Space was a premium, she thought, turning her eyes upward toward the large skylights that lit the room. The glass was thick and layered, a pricey approach, but one that would allow it to keep its warmth in the winter.

  “Speaking of which …” She stepped away from the desk, down into the entry room once more and past her luggage before shutting the door with a neat click. Then she opened it. Shut it. Opened it again. Shut it. Once more with a faint giggle of laughter in the back of her throat.

  All mine.

  The entryway was still well-lit when she turned back around, as was her desk, but she could already see that once the evening arrived the light would dim, and she would be forced to light the lamps set along the walls.

  Not that it would be any great matter. They were enchanted—another feature of her new home that had come at a high but worthwhile cost. Rather than running on oils or fats, they ran on magic. How, she didn’t quite know. But they were able to produce light for hours on end without so much as a glimmer of heat. Or the more odorous question of airing out that came from traditional lamps.

  All the hallmarks of civilization, Axtara thought as she took a final look around the entry room and her work station. Fresh! New! Invigorating! Her claws itched to dig into her luggage, to bring out the few ledgers she’d brought with her rather than shipping, and just go to work at her desk.

  But … hunger won out. And she was filthy from traveling. Pushing away the urge to go to work at her beautiful new desk, she instead stepped past it, past its matching alcove on the other side where she could store files, past the small moneybox there for on-wing expenditures and loans, and toward another large, wide door at the back of the room, one that slid to the side rather than swung on hinges.

  It was also, she noted, carved in with a stylized relief of a dragon with its wings spread. For a moment she stared at it, slightly confused. “I suppose …” she said aloud. “I did ask them to carve it with something nice.” And it does look very nice. The carving was careful but precise, and the entire thing had been smoothed and polished until it glowed. It was simply …

  Her shoulders began to shake, and then she let out a laugh. “Did they know?” she asked the door, stepping up to its surface. “Or did they just think that a dragon would be an appropriate emblem for a bank?” Her architect had known, as had a few of her builders, but had the carver?

  No wonder her builder had assured her that it was even better than she’d dreamed. He’d either planned it, or found it hilarious.

  “But tipping my wings the other way …” she said, tilting her head. “It is quite good.” And it certainly wasn’t wrong.

  Still, she was more interested in what lay behind it. Especially as she was hungry. And thirsty. And tired. The door slid to one side with a soft rumble, revealing the first of many rooms behind it, rooms that weren’t designed for public approval, but only for her own. Rooms like a bathroom, with a vast tub she could heat with her own flame or with a furnace. Or her kitchen, with its fully stocked larder. Or …

  “A pile of shipping crates, right in the middle of my hallway,” she said as she saw the obstruction ahead of her, stretching from one side of the hall to the other. I guess my directions were rather specific. At least there would be plenty of wood to start the furnace with for her bath. And assure that her nest would be nice and toasty once she’d cleaned up.

  And my toiletries are in one of those crates, she thought, looking at them with a faint pang of dismay. One of them. Unless I want to use what’s left of those in my luggage.

  She shook her head. Not too much of a problem. “I’ll need the wood anyway.” And while she was tired, unpacking one or two of the crates would be a good way to check out the rest of her home and see what it was like.

  Her home. Her smile widened. “My home,” she said, the words sounding like gold as they filled the air. Her tail lashed behind her, snapping back and forth in a quick display of joy and pleasure.

  Her home. It didn’t just sound right. It sounded better than right.

  Digging her claws into the seam at the top of one of the crates, she went to work.