Theo took a deep breath, settling into the story they had pieced together, while Glyssa listened intently, her eyes never leaving his face. Freya sat beside him, her posture rigid, always the warrior even while drinking tea. Bruni, though trying to hold it together, still had the weary look of a man—or dwarf—who was not feeling well.

  “Bruni told us about bells of the dwarven legend,” Theo continued. “Emberion hadn’t heard of those, but brought up the amulet instead. We think it makes sense if that’s what’s causing this.” He glanced at Emberion, who nodded with a small, encouraging smile.

  Bruni grunted, his skepticism apparent. “I thought the bells were legend. Myth—stories to keep pups in bed at night. Not reality. I only mentioned it because… because I had no better explanation.” Bruni looked down at the teacup in his hand, which looked tiny and far too fine for his thick fingers—but he held it with care.

  Glyssa’s gaze was sharp as she looked at him. “And you are feeling the effects of it.”

  Bruni shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny. “I’m fine.”

  “That, you are not,” Glyssa said, but then turned back to Theo. “And what of the witch? What role does she play in this tale of yours?”

  Theo swallowed, because the dragon mother’s gaze, even in a human’s face, pierced through everything he was. “We heard rumors that she might be involved.”

  Glyssa smacked her lips, making a humming sound. “That girl has more power than any being should have. I remember feeling it when she made that town burn… The out-pour of magic… Poor child.”

  “Poor child?” Freya asked with a frown. “Don’t you mean the poor people of the village?”

  Glyssa regarded her calmly. “There’s always at least two sides to each story.”

  “So you think she was right to burn down a village?” Freya pressed.

  “Perhaps we should be asking why she did it,” Glyssa said.

  Freya breathed in to argue, but Theo intervened, asking, “So you know her?” to Glyssa.

  “I never met her,” Glyssa said. “But I felt her, back then. It’s been a few decades. Like her, I prefer to keep to myself, rather than suffer clan business. She’s gone farther than I have though—she has a shield around her home that has been keeping everyone out ever since she threw it up. If you are going after her, you had better be prepared.”

  “Do you think it is wise to go there, Mom?” Emberion asked. He lounged in a comfortable armchair, one leg crossed over the other, and Theo wondered what it felt like to make even sitting with a cup of tea look so effortlessly beautiful.

  “Not at all,” Glyssa said. “You may be fine, dear. But these fragile beings…”

  “Hey,” both Freya and Bruni protested—and even Nibblet looked offended. Theo didn’t feel offended in the slightest, though, because fragile was a pretty good description of how he felt out in the wilderness. He rubbed his aching arm. Would he dare ask Bruni for more of the willow tree bark?

  Glyssa pierced Bruni and Freya with a glare. “You are a human—” she said to Freya, and then turned to Bruni, “—and you are a sick dwarf. Just what do you think you are going to do against a powerful witch with more magic in her little finger than the three of you have put together? A witch, might I add, who has had fifty years in seclusion to go crazy. And do not count on her being old just because time passed for us,” Glyssa said, shaking her head with narrowed eyes. “I have met mages and witches before—some have their ways of staying young, especially someone as powerful as this one.”

  Ageless she waits as decades pass

  The prophecy agreed.

  Oh, Theo hoped Glyssa had a better idea than going to see the witch. What had seemed like a semi-good idea before now seemed most like a suicide mission. The single good part was that this had been a suicide mission since he took his very first step outside the castle gates, and he was still alive.

  Prince Theo one, death zero. Hah.

  So far.

  “However,” Glyssa continued. “You may very well be correct. A wicked witch would be interested in such a powerful amulet. Perhaps the witch believes she can control its powers and use it for her own nefarious purposes. Leave her seclusion behind and take over the world.”

  “Do you think she can?” Theo asked.

  Glyssa shook her head. “No. The amulet is made for chaos. It is what the maker wanted.”

  “The dragon mage,” Freya said.

  “Yes. I’ll read you the verse, and you can hear for yourself.” Glyssa stood and, after a minute’s searching, pulled a thin book off a shelf. “Ah, here.” She turned to them and read,

  “In ages past, when dragons ruled the skies,

  A mage of scales and flame, with burning eyes,

  Descended to the earth’s own molten core,

  To forge a trinket never seen before.

  An amulet of power, wrought in fire,

  its gleam a lure, its magic to conspire.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  The dragon mage, with malice in his heart,

  Sought dominion over his kin, a treacherous start.

  When worn, the amulet’s gleam,

  Turns dragon reason to rage, peace to scream,

  His amulet, a tool for chaos grand,

  To sicken races, lay waste to the land.

  But unity arose against tyranny’s face,

  Together stood every mortal race.

  Together they stood, the mage to dethrone,

  His power broken, his schemes overthrown,

  The amulet, too perilous to destroy,

  Was hidden deep, where none might employ

  Its dreadful might for ages yet to come,

  A secret guarded by the beat of Time’s drum

  Beware, o mortal, who would dare to don,

  for once adorned, your true self shall be gone.

  The mind it shall corrupt,

  its hold unbroken, soul abrupt.

  To break this curse, a task most dire:

  when power surges, magic higher,

  A blade of legend must strike true,

  while amulet’s strength is drawn anew.”

  The room was quiet when Glyssa stopped. Theo looked around, trying to gauge the others’ reactions. Emberion gave no reaction; he must have heard the story before. Freya clenched her jaw tightly. Bruni looked pale, his usual state at this point, but he held his hands in tight fists.

  Glyssa sighed. “A particularly dark time of our history, old as it may be. I’m afraid if someone has found the amulet and is using it, we are in for some dark days.”

  “Especially if a mad witch got her hands on it,” Bruni said.

  Glyssa nodded. “Indeed.”

  “Could she have left her home without you noticing?” Theo asked. “I mean, you said you felt her ‘last time’.”

  “Of course she could have,” Glyssa said. “There has been no reason for me to search for her presence. Unless she does something massive, like burning down another town, I would hardly notice.”

  “You said you weren’t affected by the amulet because you’re in your human form,” Freya said. “How come Emberion isn’t affected? If, what was the wording, the amulet turns ‘reason to rage’ for you?”

  Glyssa cocked her head to the side in a motion very reminiscent of the way her son did in dragon form. Then she looked at Ember. “Do you have a theory, dear?”

  Emberion shrugged. “I’m neither old, nor very young, so I’m pretty resistant. The youngsters want to fight, so they’re easily manipulated by chaos magic. The elders don’t have the same strength anymore, so they get affected too. Us in the middle… not as much.”

  “Just how old are you?” Theo asked, wanting to think of something other than the crazy, dangerous way they were headed with the amulet and the witch.

  Emberion smiled. He looked no more than twenty-five, but Theo suspected that was not his age. “I lost count at four hundred.”

  Theo stared at him. “You… uh. You look good for your age.”

  Emberion chuckled. “Thank you, Theodore.”

  The way Emberion said those three words—his voice not quite as rumbling as it was when he was in dragon form, but still a rich baritone—made a blush rise up Theo’s neck and across his cheeks. He quickly looked away, heart beating a little too quickly.

  Glyssa shook her head at Emberion and looked at Theo. “We age differently, young Theo. We can live twenty years and only look a year older—and our minds do not age as fast as yours do, either. We are young much, much longer than you.”

  Theo frowned. “So he’s… what, twenty?”

  “Twenty-three if you count that way,” Glyssa said. “He may have lost count, but I haven’t. I know all my children’s ages.”

  “Right,” Theo said.

  “Can we get back to the witch?” Freya asked. “What about the shield? Will it be impossible for us to even get near her?”

  “The shield keeps anyone who wants to harm her out,” Glyssa said. “I haven’t tried it myself, but I have heard the tales. Not that anyone actually tries going there these days.”

  “Except us,” Bruni muttered. “This is such a great plan.”

  “I’m not even sure we can consider it a plan,” Freya said. “She is obviously dangerous, and we have no idea if she actually has the amulet or not—and if she does, this will be even more deadly.”

  “More deadly?” Bruni said. “Either it’s deadly, or it’s not.”

  Freya pursed her lips. “She’s deadly.” She focused on Theo. “Theo, we can’t possibly go there—this was not what the king had in mind when he sent his only son on this quest.”

  Theo glanced at Bruni, but Bruni looked back at him with an unimpressed look, not seeming the least bit surprised.

  “Merchant’s son,” he scoffed. “As if a merchant’s son would have a private knight.”

  Theo grimaced. “You knew?”

  Bruni shrugged. “Assumed. After all, even lowly dwarves know that the Crown Prince of Astoria is named Theodore and is about your age.”

  “You’re not lowly,” Theo said, trying for a smile, but he probably failed miserably. “Freya gave me strict orders about not telling strangers my title.”

  “And I’m a stranger?” Bruni asked. Was that hurt in his voice? Really? After all of his rudeness?

  “Can we get back to the point?” Freya asked. “The king did not send you off to face dangerous witches.”

  Theo turned slowly away from Bruni (it was too much to face Freya and her irritation, and a hurt Bruni at the same time). “Then what did he have in mind when he sent me to talk to the dragons?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “So what do you suggest? Just go home and admit to my father that I am the failure he already thinks?” He stood, feeling jittery. Though it was probably the wisest action, he didn’t want to go home. He wanted to be someone his father could be proud of, not a coward running home as soon as the dangers piled on.

  Which they, admittedly, did, in a very tall pile.

  Freya stood too, and he wished she were shorter than him, so that he didn’t feel so small next to her. “Well, at least you won’t be dead then.”

  “Better alive and a coward?” he asked. Nibblet chirruped, sounding like she was arguing too, though Theo wasn’t sure if she agreed with Freya or with him.

  “Yes,” Freya snapped.

  Theo huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, though he winced when he bent his aching arm. Despite the dangers of the road ahead, he didn’t want to give up—and hearing from Freya that he should made him irrationally irritated.

  He wanted to be the one the kingdom could count on, like his father had said.

  “I’m going to face the witch,” Theo said, calmer now, to Freya.

  “Why are you so decided that the witch has the amulet?” Freya asked, exasperation coloring her voice.

  “Because the prophecy fits,” Theo snapped. “It talked about the witch who burned a village, fled to a forest where time stood still, and then it said, ‘an amulet’s power with hers align’. It’s her. Everything fits.”

  Freya stared at him, mouth open and eyes wide.

  “So that’s why I have to go there,” Theo said. “Because I’m going to protect my kingdom. And if you don’t want to come, that’s up to you.”

  Freya threw her hands in the air. “It’s not about me, it’s about you. You’re not—”

  “Not what, brave? A fighter? A hero? A prince worth a damn?” Theo asked. “I know that. But I’m here, and I have you guys. We’ll be as good as anything—I doubt the witch will appreciate it if my father marches his army to her door.”

  Freya sighed. “You were less stubborn back at home.”

  “No, but all I wanted there was to bake,” Theo said. “You didn’t protest as much about that.”

  At that, Freya snorted and shook her head. “Fine. We’ll go. But I still don’t believe in prophecies.”

  That was no surprise to Theo. She probably thought prophecies meant people weren’t in control of their own destinies. It didn’t matter—she was coming with him.

  “Good then,” said Glyssa. “Now who’s up for some dinner?”