Vidar came to after half-falling down the ladder, having escaped the flames closing in on the dragon's corpse. Debris and bits of stone kept falling from the darkness above, and he rolled to the side just in time to avoid having his head caved in by a piece of roof that was still on fire. Groaning and dizzy, he crawled out of the tight corridor and onto the platform overlooking the rushing torrent of water. He'd made it. Thank the fallen angels, he'd made it.

  No one would follow him down the way he'd come, but there was no getting back up either. With that thing calling itself Lytir up there, the vagrant he'd thought of as a friend, the mere idea of climbing back up was preposterous. Devil, the dragon rider, had called Lytir. A ludicrous idea, except for the honest and unabashed terror in Rend's eyes. Vidar shuddered and pushed the thoughts of his brush with death away, focusing on the more urgent matter. Getting away.

  The underground passageway, often a sanctuary of warmth, now felt dank and cold compared to the sweltering heat of the street above. Vidar's heart raced, and each breath brought renewed coughing from the dust. After pushing through the narrow passage below the latter, he settled down near the exit out to the walkway. Water roared from right to left, meaning the first word out of his mouth did not carry far.

  "Rend?"

  No reply came. It took him another moment to trigger a kenaz rune, showering his surroundings in light. The familiar emptiness of the corridor soothed Vidar's nerves a little, but he wondered where the dragon rider had disappeared to. Bone-tired, he glanced down at his arm and saw the wound he'd inflicted upon himself. A runic symbol. This one, only he knew. Out of all the runes he'd discovered, that could only be said of this one. Alvarn, his friend, the hefty, bespectacled rune scribe student, knew of all other discoveries. The rune scribes' guild now knew of both algiz, the barrier rune, and stakra, used to thrust force. So many new runes in such a short amount of time, and now another.

  Needing to see his new discovery, Vidar painted the lines he'd carved into his skin on the back of a warmth rune. The lines were simple enough, but getting them just right required immense concentration. Finished with the brush, he put it away after rinsing it in the water. He considered pouring some of the dragon's essence, which now filled the area around his heart, into this new rune, but discarded the idea. Having just drained it from the corpse of the dragon he and his friends had slain, he didn't know enough to risk it. If he made a mistake, it'd blow up in his face. Best be careful for once. Vidar rejuvenated the rune by pouring a minuscule amount of essence into it.

  The circle in his mind held just fine, and he grabbed around the edge of the wooden disc before pointing the rune away from himself. Flames roared into existence from the runic symbol upon triggering the rune and Vidar gave a shout of surprise. It'd lasted less than a second, but it worked! He peered down at the rune in his hand, dumbfounded. He'd seen the symbol inside the dragon's throat and in that instant, he knew. Still, seeing it work was something else. Fire. Vidar could conjure fire out of nothing.

  "I AM THE LORD OF FIRE!" he bellowed, clenching his fist in victory. The words echoed down the long passageway despite the roar of the water overpowering most sound.

  "Rend?!" he shouted again. "Come watch me be a dragon!"

  Adding a little more essence, he stuck the wooden disc between his teeth and rejuvenated it with his tongue before triggering it. Fire once again filled the passageway, shooting out just like the dragon's and getting some excellent range. Unfortunately, Vidar's lips, tongue, most of his face, as well as his throat numbed. He dropped the wooden disc, and it bounced once on the floor before disappearing into the water.

  "Flupk!" he tried shouting, his voice slurred because of his numb tongue. He made a mental note not to try that again.

  Before heading farther into the dark of the underground tunnel system, Vidar crafted another flame rune and confirmed its function. It wouldn't do to lose the design. With the way the fires were raging up above, he wouldn't get a second look at the dragon he and his friends had just killed. The secret of the fire rune would soon turn into a pile of ash.

  His eyes widened as he remembered Siv, Ida, Alvarn, and the others up on that small tower. With the fires, would they be able to get away from there by themselves?

  Hurrying, Vidar made his way to the nearest ladder back up to the surface. He never once saw or heard any sign of Rend, which was a bit of a surprise considering the state of the young man's injured leg.

  Once at the top of the ladder, he searched his pockets for the key.

  "Where is that damn thing?"

  No matter how much he moved wooden discs, brushes, and paints around, his fingers couldn't find the long bit of metal. There. No wonder he hadn't found it. The key was all bent out of shape after the fall. Useless.

  Anger overpowered any semblance of fear over being stuck down there and Vidar didn't hesitate in bringing out a stakra rune and placing it on the top rung, pointing straight up. A drop of dragon's essence made the runic circle in Vidar's mind shimmer with power. He triggered the rune.

  The top rung was made of metal but it got all bent out of shape from the incredible back thrust as the stakra rune tore the hatch above off its hinges and threw it into the air. It landed in the snow with a dull clang. Vidar crawled out of a small crater and found himself outside the wall.

  Running, he closed his coat against the cold and the wind. Fires raged across Halmstadt and people were still terrified, screaming that the end had come. Come morning, they'd learn of Vidar's heroics and how he'd saved the entire city with some help from his friends. All would be well then and he'd accept his accolades and the gratitude of the adoring masses, as well as the sincere apologies from the steward and Jarl. Vidar would be magnanimous, of course, and accept the apologies, along with a heavy bag of gold.

  Once the fires were quenched, it was just a matter of rebuilding. Many people would need runes and he was sure the rune scribes' guild would look the other way if he sold a few as an enrolled student in their little academy.

  The tower in question, the one from which his friends commandeered the ballista to let loose their rune-enhanced arrows, came into view. From his position on the street, there was no telling what was going on up there. Flames rose from the inside of the wall nearby, licking the stone barrier between himself and the others.

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  Sighing, he turned to a nearby house and began climbing. The snow-covered boxes he found were cold and slippery, followed by a slanted tile roof which forced him to scramble up on his stomach.

  "Spring is coming soon," he grunted to himself as he wormed his way forward, finding something sturdy to grab. The ledge made his feet skid a little, but he remained standing, his entire body tense from hugging a tall chimney. From that vantage point, he was just high up enough to see over the wall. People were rushing back and forth all over the upper city, as well as on the streets around the house he'd foolishly climbed earlier before the dragon crashed into it.

  "If there's a rune for fire, there should be one for water," he mused, trying to find a safe way to climb down. His friends were not on top of that tower. No matter where he looked, he caught no sign of movement anywhere.

  The nearby gate to the upper city opened up, and the drawbridge lowered. People clamored to leave while an equal number of people fought to enter, while soldiers and guardsmen struggled to bring some semblance of order. In that crowd, he spotted a bespectacled face he knew very well.

  "Alvarn!" he shouted, but there was no way the student scribe heard him over the incredible din of shouting people and out-of-control fires.

  Vidar thought he saw a flash of Siv's pale face. Excited, he climbed down the last bit without taking proper care to place his feet before moving his hands. Sliding on a patch of ice hidden under the thin layer of snow, he tumbled down on the wrong side. With a yelp, he crashed into a piece of fabric stretched between two jutting wooden poles. It was a merchant's stall of some sort, and Vidar broke a lot of pottery when he landed on his back on a table of wares.

  His head swimming with pain, Vidar stood and found the place deserted. Thankfully, whoever manned this little market wasn't doing so at this very moment. Few people wanted to buy, he sniffed one of the broken pieces of pottery, and recoiled at the smell of curdled milk, during a life-changing catastrophe.

  Huddled against the cold and his many wounds, he set off. The streets were full of people, but the fires looked to be dying down. The now-dead dragon had focused on the keep and upper city this time around, before succumbing to Vidar's brilliant plan.

  Annoyed at the fear in their faces, he kept telling them. "The dragon is dead! Don't worry, I killed it!"

  The few who even heard his proclamations ignored his message. Vidar couldn't blame them, not really. He knew it'd take more than his word to make people believe, so he quieted down. It wouldn't do to have the thieves' guild spot him in the chaos and kidnap him for another intimidation session. Something would have to be done about those miscreants, but that was for another day. This night, after all he'd been through, the only thing before his mind's eye was a bed. He needed rest.

  The room he shared with Siv, Erik, and Sven stood untouched by the dragon's flames. Shuffling up the stairs, he heard a commotion on the second floor.

  "Should we go looking for him?" Alvarn asked.

  Someone stomped their foot.

  "Let the dummy figure it out himself. I'm not his wet nurse!" Ida shouted.

  Vidar made it up the stairs. "Hey."

  They all turned to him.

  "Where did you run off to?" Ida asked, her voice heated.

  "You look terrible. What happened?" Alvarn asked.

  "The thieves' guild kidnapped me, then a dragon landed on top of me."

  Ida's eye narrowed. "We'll have to deal with the thieves' guild."

  Erik put his head out of the open door leading into their room. "What do you mean, a dragon landed on you?"

  They went inside and Vidar explained the events of the night, how, first, the thieves kidnapped him from the roof of his father's house as he was rejuvenating the algiz rune on the roof. Then, after that ordeal, he spoke of the dragon falling from the sky and demolishing the house he'd climbed, and then how Vidar climbed into its mouth to discover a new rune before rescuing the dragon rider, Rend.

  Stunned silence followed for a brief moment, then everyone spoke at once.

  "You climbed inside the dragon's corpse?" Alvarn asked, a dumbfounded look on his face. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. What sort of rune did you find?"

  Ida stood so fast her chair fell back against the floor. "Someone rode that damn thing?"

  "I gave your sister that algiz rune, by the way," Erik said, raising his hand.

  Vidar nodded to Erik in thanks.

  Siv was scribbling on a note.

  "Rider. Dead," Alvarn read after looking over. "I don't understand."

  "She's asking if the rider is dead," Vidar said. "And no, Siv, he isn't dead. I saved the bastard, and he thanked me by running off into the sewer system. Also, my key no longer works. It broke."

  He looked at Alvarn. "Can you make another copy of yours?"

  "Of course, but what's this about the thieves?"

  Vidar shrugged. "They don't like me much."

  "And we don't like them!" Ida said, her voice loud.

  Everyone was high-strung after the events of the night, but a heavy silence soon settled over the room. Vidar rubbed at his eyes, but that only pushed more grime into them, forcing him to blink again and again. "Aren't you going to tell me about your night at some point? I seem to remember you killing a dragon. With my help, obviously."

  Vidar turned to Siv. "From the look of things, the styrka runes worked out great. Did you do them, Siv?"

  She nodded, smiling through the thick coat of soot on her face.

  The entire group looked a little worse for wear, but they were all smiles, all of them. Ida explained how they'd made it across to the upper city, scaled the wall, and dealt with the two guards. She went into great detail about how clumsy and stupid Halmstadt's supposed protectors had been and how easily she'd bound their hands and feet.

  Then Alvarn took over the retelling. He described in great detail how the contraption with the stakra runes worked, how they'd lifted the entire wooden base of the ballista into the air for just long enough for Ida to aim her arrows. Right after that second runic arrow, the stakra runes ran out of essence and the whole thing collapsed.

  Vidar didn't quite follow their explanation of how they made it down and through the flames, but they'd rolled around in the snow to wet their clothes, faces, and hair and then just rushed through. Now that he got a better look at them, he saw some singed hairs. They were uninjured from the ordeal, and together they snuck out into the crowd as soon as the gates opened back up. By then, people were whispering of the dragon falling from the air and crashing nearby.

  Once they told their respective stories, Ida slapped her knees and stood. "Well, I'm going to check in on my girls and make sure everyone made it through the fire. See you later, sis." Walking out, she turned back and gave Vidar a look. "I've left a way of contacting me with Siv. Come find me later and we’ll talk about what we’re going to do about the thieves."

  "I will," Vidar promised. "Keep your ears open, because it won't be long, I don't think."

  Alvarn left soon after, heading back to the guild after making Vidar promise to come see him and show the new rune.

  Erik leaned back in his chair, deflating a little. "What now?"

  "Well," Vidar began. "Tomorrow, I'll head out to keep and receive our reward for killing that dragon. Riches and fame will follow, but then we'll have to attend the academy so we can become proper rune scribes. Erik, have you changed your mind?"

  Erik glanced over at Siv, then shook his head as he began removing the vast array of algiz runes strapped around his body. "No, I told you I don't want to be a witch."

  "Fine," Vidar said.

  It was time for some good things to start happening to himself and his friends. They'd fought through a lot and come up on top, though there were some questions left to be answered. Rend running around down in the sewers worried him. That young man needed to provide some answers about where he'd come from, why he was attacking the city, and, more than anything, explain the situation with Lytir. The man who'd been standing there, right next to the flames licking the corpse of the dragon, was not just some vagrant. That much was certain. Vidar's old friend was a mystery. Devil, Rend had shouted. Vidar did not like the sound of that.

  After the conversation died down, he stepped out for a moment to make sure the fires weren't anywhere near the building. Then, at long last, Vidar returned to his bed and fell asleep as soon as he closed his eyes.