We took a few minutes to recover after the fight with Corez. I looked over the wooden door to Oristrella's sanctuary while Ferrisdae rested and drank some water. The carvings etched into and painted over really were as magnificent as Serily had claimed.

  The door depicted a naked white haired Human woman holding an open black tome while sitting and looking at the viewer. No matter where I moved, it looked like she was staring down at me with piercing blue reptilian eyes, and I had to wonder if the taller races got that, too. The woman was no doubt Oristrella in her Human form. Depictions of her were varied throughout the ages, but if she was anything like this carving then they did her no justice.

  Behind her was a library. The amount of detail carved into the door was magnificent, with each book having their own titles. Some of them were even small enough that I couldn't read them even when squinting. In the far distance of the library was a white Dragon, perusing the bookshelves with interest, reaching for one of the books with a long claw.

  By the time Ferrisdae approached me, her robes had fully repaired themselves. Her face was still white, but she looked a lot better than she had when she took the potion.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked.

  “Cold, but ready to go,” she answered.

  “So your ring doesn't offer you complete immunity to cold?” I asked. It would be good to know.

  Ferrisdae shook her head. “Not immunity, those are far too expensive,” she sighed. I agreed with her there, it was prohibitively expensive for most people. Still, I wasn't sure what scale of wealth she was working on if she could stay at places fit for nobles and royalty.

  “Fair,” I said as I fished the key out of my Dimensional Pocket. “Can you hit me with that spell you used to boost your strength against Sevensleg?”

  Ferrisdae raised her eyebrow. “What happened to doing this alone if I weren't foisted on you?” she asked, amused.

  “She's a Dragon, Ferrisdae,” I scoffed. “It doesn't matter how strong I become; she'll still be a Dragon. Plus, this saves me a potion and possible potion sickness if negotiations break down.”

  She considered this for a moment and cast the spell. Red light crawled across my skin as the magic took hold, and my strength surged. It felt wonderful, like I could have burst through this door at my leisure. That's not how it worked with the dungeon's magic protecting it, of course, but it still felt like it.

  “You think we can negotiate?” Ferrisdae asked skeptically. “What happened to a Dragon's pride and all that nonsense Corez was saying?”

  “Every Dragon has their price, and I brought something irresistible,” I claimed. As I answered, I inserted the key into the door and unlocked it. Ferrisdae already said she was ready to go, so I didn't hesitate to open the door.

  The room beyond was lit up by the waters of the Coldspring stream bringing water into the room we just came from. Where Corez's arena was a natural cave of natural stone, this room was far larger and was smooth from the floor all the way to the top of the dome. In the center, the Coldspring bubbled soothingly from the ground.

  Oristrella was nowhere to be seen.

  With a frown, I looked around for any sign of her. “Where the hell is she?”

  “Maybe she’s resting?” Ferrisdae offered. “We’re not really supposed to be here, and the Kobolds said that they hadn’t seen her for a while.

  I nodded and listened, but didn’t respond. There was another door almost on the other side of the dome with a faint glow coming from it. That was probably Oristrella’s quarters.

  “Come on,” I told Ferrisdae as I marched towards it, avoiding the water.

  We crossed over the threshold into a dimly lit library. I no longer felt the cold being held at bay by my magical items. It was comfortable here, actually. That made sense; the books would be ruined if they were held at temperatures well below freezing.

  “Is this Oristrella's hoard?” Ferrisdae asked in wonder. The room was lit by channels of Coldspring water, and was absolutely massive. Far bigger than the boss room was. The stone bookshelves, haphazardly placed, still managed to make it seem claustrophobic somehow.

  “Some Dragons hoard treasure, Oristrella hoards first printings and written manuscripts,” I answered. “What a Dragon considers worthy of its hoard varies greatly from individual to individual, and books aren't even the strangest thing. I have to imagine that there's not a lot of entertainment this close to the Blizzard, either.”

  Ferrisdae nodded, paused, and then giggled. “So you could call her—”

  “Don't you say it,” I sighed.

  “—A Book Wyrm?” she finished anyway, laughing at her own words.

  “That thing you just did?” I asked. “Don't do that. For the love of everything, don't do that.”

  Ferrisdae snickered but fell silent as we searched the library. It went on for bookshelf after bookshelf, the sheer size of it making it a wonder all on its own. When we finally reached the end, we heard a soft snore coming from a pile of books left on a large stone table. I turned away from the door, approaching the noise.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Shaking my head at the scene in front of me, I climbed onto the table from a chair. Inside what could only be described as a fortress of paper was Oristrella in her Human form, completely indecent, slumbering under several books while clutching a stone tablet in her hand. The first thought to pop into my head as I looked upon her face was that the depictions really didn't do her justice.

  The second thought I voiced out loud. “Really?” I asked, scowling.

  “Is she in there?” Ferrisdae asked. She was too short to see into the book fort, but there wasn't enough room on the table for all three of us.

  “Yes,” I said as I looked her over. Dark circles under her eyes were prominent against her marble white skin. “Do you have any more of that hangover cure potion?”

  “I have one more bottle,” she confirmed. Then she took on an amused tone. “Is that why she wasn’t waiting for us? She’s hung over?”

  “No, I think she’s exhausted,” I said. I began moving the books out of my way so that I didn’t have to keep leaning over them. Oristrella snored loudly and shifted, but continued to sleep. “So unless you have a Pep-Up Pot, one of those hangover cures will have to be the next best thing.”

  “Oh, yeah I’ve got one of those lying around, hang on,” Ferrisdae said, reaching into her Dimensional Pocket.

  “Just lying around, huh,” I muttered. “Is that why you’re so rambunctiously sunny all the time?”

  The Pep-Up Potion was a marvel of modern alchemy. No matter who drank it, no matter how tired they were, it would knock them awake as soon as they finished consuming it. It was on many restricted item lists due to its potency and several people abusing them to stay up for weeks or months in a row. Now, you could only purchase a few of them at a time. They were still very popular regardless of their status.

  “No, silly Badger, that just comes naturally,” she teased. “Here you go, boss.”

  I eyed her critically. “Don’t call me silly Badger again,” I told her while grabbing the potion.

  It was a sparkling silver and, when I popped the cork off of it, it smelled of raspberries. I did my best to maneuver it through the remaining books, taking Oristrella’s head and tilting it so that I could pour it into her mouth.

  The moment the vial emptied, Oristrella’s blue, slitted eyes shot open. They darted around, taking in her broken book fort before focusing on me. Her pupils dilated like those of a cat who had just spotted their prey.

  As soon as a look of concern crossed her face and her body tensed, I introduced myself. “I am Dungeon Inspector Badger,” I said as quickly as I could. “My junior and I fought our way through your dungeon and found you knocked out in this pile of books. We have some things to discuss with you once you’re decent, and we’ve brought tribute that I know you’re going to love.”

  Oristrella’s concerned look changed to one of confusion, and she looked around once more. She lifted the stone tablet she was holding into the air, as if she had to make sure it was still there. Sighing in relief, the Dragon clutched it to her chest.

  “You mammals and your clothes,” she muttered. Her voice was deeper than I had expected it to be, but it had a pleasant husky quality to it.

  “Yes. I know it’s a hassle, but we do prefer to be clothed when speaking with one another,” I said, keeping my voice even.

  Oristrella fixed me with a critical eye, but dropped it almost immediately in favor of a languid stretch. The books covering her fell onto the table, revealing more of her alabaster skin without a hint of shame. I averted my eyes out of courtesy, but kept my buckler arm between us just in case. “Very well, allow me time to prepare myself, and then we will discuss your… intrusion.”

  Not wanting to anger her, I quickly jumped off the table. “We’ll be waiting at the entrance to your library,” I told her. Behind me, Oristrella stood up, knocking books all over the table, and I saw Ferrisdae’s face turn red before I passed her. She followed after me swiftly after that.

  “Wow,” Ferrisdae breathed. “The depictions really don't do her justice.”

  I grunted without committing to her words one way or the other, unwilling to admit that I had thought the same thing.

  We waited near the door as promised, but we didn’t have to wait long. It only took a few minutes before Oristrella joined us.

  She wore a light blue ball gown that shimmered silver in the light from the water. It exposed her shoulders and spread out into a bell shape under the waist, with matching sleeves covered her arm from her wrists to her elbows. I had expected her to put on some kind of illusion and call it a day, but I could tell by the way it swished across the floor that it was real. Oristrella clutched the stone tablet to her chest with both hands.

  “That’s a beautiful dress,” Ferrisdae said in awe. “It suits you very well, Lady Oristrella.”

  Oristrella flicked her eyes towards Ferrisdae, taking her in, before settling on me. “This is your junior?” she asked.

  “Yes, this is Junior Dungeon Inspector Ferrisdae,” I answered.

  “Hmm.” Oristrella looked her over once more, then sighed. “What is it that you two want here? The dungeon is closed, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  Ferrisdae and I looked at each other, frowning at the proclamation. “Lady Oristrella, we came here to ask your help only to find that things were… not in the state we expected,” I said, trying to be diplomatic. “We do have questions about that.”

  “Then let us discuss your original intentions, shall we?” Oristrella said, leading us to one of the nearby tables. She indicated that we were supposed to sit, and we did, though she remained standing. Ferrisdae had a small amount of trouble with the heavy stone chair, but managed to pull it out far enough to sit without being uncomfortable. “What troubles did you bring?”

  “We originally came for your help to track down a caravan of marauders and their leader, Raitheus Razorbeak,” I explained. The stone chair was surprisingly comfortable despite the lack of cushion, which was a nice surprise. “They are supposed to be traveling in an approved circuit around the continent, as they have been doing for nearly two years now, but Razorbeak took four of his dungeons and found his way into the Thousand Year Blizzard. We would like your help in tracking him down.”

  The shapeshifted Dragon’s eyes bore into mine, but I didn’t flinch away. “That will be a difficult request,” she said slowly. “Not because it’s impossible, I could help and give you sight through snow and ice. That would be trivial. Unfortunately, there’s a lot going on behind the scenes with those birdbrains and the reasons why they are here.”

  Based on her tone, I could tell she didn’t think very highly of Razorbeak and crew. Then again, that could just be a Draconian reaction. They were “forced” to share the sky with Avians, after all. At least the Kobolds had the common courtesy to stay grounded.

  “If I may pry, could you tell me why this would be difficult? What kind of politics are happening behind the scenes that we’re not aware of?”

  Oristrella grinned fondly, showing off two rows of absurdly sharp teeth. She leaned over the table, one hand keeping the tablet clutched close and the other keeping her steady, tapping away at the stone with long, blue nails.

  “Why, because that would put you closer to my new darling,” she said. “The Dungeon Master is the one who asked Raitheus Razorbeak to bring him into my domain in the first place.”