All The Skills

Shadow immediately lunged for Joy.

Standing on top of an open hill and not near any large shadows was surely what had kept him from teleporting and then attacking. Still, he was a fully grown dragon and she had only recently become large enough to fly with her rider in the air. It wasn’t a fair match-up.

Out of all of them, her venomous claws presented the most immediate offensive threat. That had to be why Shadow wanted to take her out first.

All of this flashed in and out of Arthur’s head in a second of horror as he watched his former allies turn on them. Just as the dungeon was designed to do.

Arthur’s arm snapped out, but he had used the last of the chainmail rivets during the final wave. They likely littered the grassy field, but he only had control if he were within an inch of them.

He was too far away to stop Shadow and Joy, to do anything but to yell, “No! Stop!”

The sound of his voice was drowned out by Cressida screaming Joy’s name in horror.

Thankfully, Brixaby was closer.

He must have used every bit of his Quick Sprint Flying skill to get between the dragons – the lunging Shadow and Joy who was no coward or a fool and was bringing up her claws to defend.

“STOP!”

Brixaby had a ridiculously deep voice for a dragon so tiny, and no concept of what being quiet was. His whispers could be heard across a room. So, when he roared out the word at the top of his voice, Arthur felt it in his chest.

For a moment in time, Brixaby was a Legendary Dragon, and he had just given a Legendary order.

Of course, Joy and Shadow had no choice but to stop, shocked still in place.

It lasted for only a moment, but that was all Arthur needed.

He wheeled around on Laird, who hadn’t moved yet. Likely, the plan had been to capture or incapacitate Joy and then use her as leverage.

“We don’t have to do this,” Arthur said. “I have a way to get you all into the library.”

Laird leveled an unimpressed look his way.

It was Shadow who replied, swinging his head around. “Lies. You just learned of this restriction a few moments ago.”

“And you’ve been planning on turning on us from the start!” Cressida snapped. She ran to stand by Joy’s side, and though Arthur knew she’d used up every bit of mana in the last wave, thinking it was the last, her hands were out as if she were about to try to summon her flame bear anyway. She’d probably burn through her life force to do it if she had to.

“Only with the deepest regret,” Laird confirmed. “You had no idea how long I have waited for the chance to freely access the combat library – how many under my command – dragons and humans – have died in various attempts. If we had any warning you were going to try, we could have planned more appropriately. You could have been told what to expect.”

“We need those combat cards,” Arthur said.

“So do my people.”

"No," Arthur repeated, "you don't understand. We need the cards. Us," he gestured around the group to indicate them all, "and everybody out there. Anybody who's willing to take one. Two of them, if we can."

That took the dragon by surprise. He narrowed his eyes. "You intend to completely strip the council of all of its wealth? Return it to the hive? The people? Hmm. I've heard of governments like that. They tend to work well on paper, but within a generation—"

"No," Arthur said, "the council is working fine, but they’re being shortsighted. They're not just giving away wealth back to the hives and kingdoms. They're giving away our one source of protection, and, if I'm right... We may need that protection."

He glanced at Brixaby who nodded back.

"Protection? From who? The kingdom hives?" Shadow barked. “What do you know?”

"I believe that a scourgeling known as the Mind singer is out there, gaining power right now. You remember the last demi-scourge eruption?" Arthur said. "That was organized, in part, by her.”

“And she was the same one we believe sent an assassin after Arthur,” Brixaby said.

Laird rumbled deep in his throat. Outwardly, it sounded a lot like a growl, but Arthur recognized it as a pensive sound of thought. "The council investigated that. That particular Free Hive that man originally hailed from has been acting odd. Not returning messages. We are all independent, and that is not too unusual. Especially if there is internal strife. We aren't the Kingdoms, and we can't compel other hives to trade or return inquiries. But you believe there’s something more?"

"I think that there's a creature out there that has mind magic powers and has already shown that it can control a large number of people." Arthur added, "And, since she sent an assassin after me, she likely knows this hive has Legendary cards within it.”

He carefully kept out the fact that he and the Mind Singer had a history.

“And unlike the Kingdom hives,” Cressida added, “you don’t have a large dedicated fighting force to repel an invader.”

Shadow snarled. "If you're so concerned, why didn't you leave?”

“Other than the fact that we're essentially prisoners here?" Arthur asked.

Laird scoffed. "It is mostly bluster, you know. You likely could have left if you put your mind to it. But the council wanted to dangle the carrot first and leave the stick for an emergency. We wanted you loyal to this hive. As you said, you’re Legendary."

"I don't see you leaving this hive," Brixaby said, pointedly to Shadow.

The other dragon shrugged. "I have nothing back at Wolf Moon, but I don't want to stick around any place that cannot defend itself. I am a dragon, not a sitting duck."

"Which is another flaw in your plan, Arthur," Laird said, "most in this hive would not take a combat card if offered. They do not wish to fight."

"They might take a combat card if mind-controlled thralls were beating in at their door," Arthur said, "but the point is, our goals aren't mutually exclusive. We all have reasons to get as many cards out of that library as possible."

"Agreed," Laird said, but then he leered at Arthur, all teeth, "Then, you won't have any objection to me entering the library." He held up his rune net. "I will bring out as many cards as I can fit."

"I told you, I have a better solution," Arthur said.

“And what would that be?”

He hesitated. "Only one person can walk through the entrance into that library. Yes? But you've read the parameters of this dungeon. Are there rules excluding anyone from bringing a personal storage space inside? Or a restriction from taking anything out from a personal storage space, once inside?"

Laird hesitated, and Joy made an 'ooh' sound. She understood.

Shadow just looked slightly confused, and Brixaby, smug.

Instead of answering, Laird reached into his rune net and withdrew a sheaf of papers. Since they were meant for a dragon to handle, each page was at least three feet wide. However, the handwriting scrawled upon it was pin neat and ridiculously tiny. Laird must have practiced writing small.

"These are the notes based on the original design for the dungeon," Laird said, laying the papers down and flipping through them one by one. The tiny writing covered both sides of each page.

"Why is there so much?" Joy asked, craning her neck over.

Laird spoke absently as he read. "There's more to a dungeon than simply willing it into existence. Everything from how the clouds pass through the sky to the blades of grass exists on a blueprint. But the dungeoneer must still incorporate all aspects, including reactions to every conceivable encounter with the scourgelings. For example, how they behave with a ten-person team versus a single person. The disintegration time, and the rules of the waves themselves. I'm told it's very complicated— ah, here." A claw tapped the middle of the page, and Arthur came over to look down at it. He had no problem reading upside down, but on top of everything else, the words were in shorthand and didn't make sense at first glance.

"There was a limit imposed on how many people may actively cross the threshold to the library: Just one individual," Laird said. "And there is an allowance for dimensional storage— Which makes sense. I know that Chablis uses a high-quality rune net to transfer cards due to their magical weight."contemporary romance

“That’s fine,” Arthur said.

Laird glanced up and Arthur saw a frank assessment in his eyes. "What is your plan?"

"I can transport you all in my Personal Storage." Arthur hesitated for a moment, then added, "Well, there is a size limit, but I assume since you brought us to this hive in those nets, they’ll fit you and Shadow? Then we can put the net in my storage."

“A storage within a storage,” Laird mused.

Shadow was unimpressed. "Laird, this is ridiculous. You can go in and bring out all the cards using the net. Then he can do whatever he wants with his portion and give them away to crafters to his heart's content."

"No," Laird said softly, "that will not work."

"Why not?" Shadow asked.

"For the same reason you cannot simply stuff a card anchor full of cards. There is a magical weight to each card—especially the higher ranked cards." Laird held up his rune net. "This could perhaps fit thirty Common, ten Uncommon, or three Rare cards for the dragons I wish to gift the combat cards to. Tell me, Arthur, how many cards can you fit in your Personal Space?"

"I don't know," he said. "It was made by a Rare card. I've held both a Rare and a Legendary card within it without any strain."

Laird nodded. "One benefit of cards over mere enchantments. The only question is... How can I trust that you will do as you say?"

That was the easy question. "Because I owe you," Arthur said. "There was no reason for you to give a random child a Legendary card, and I know you did not expect anything to come out of it.”

The dragon looked away. “That is… perhaps not all of it.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked, but he had phrased his last few words deliberately. He still remembered Laird mentioning a ‘profit’ about giving him his card, when he first arrived at the Free Hive.

Laird didn’t answer for a moment. “Officially, the Free Hives do not have Legendary cards. The Kingdoms would surely want them. But in reality…” He tilted his head. “There have been rumors of a Legendary card – some call it far-sight. Others, prophecy. Some believe it’s all a ruse. But just before I attacked Baron Kane’s security cart, I was contacted through… means.” He snorted. “I won’t tell you how. But the words led me to believe that if I gave away the card I found, that gift would be returned tenfold. Also,” he added, “Had I brought that card back here years ago, I’m certain there would be no Mesa Free Hive left today. Unclaimed Legendary cards draw every greedy eye. They are a curse.”

Arthur wasn’t sure how he felt. He’d wondered so many times why Laird had given him the card back then. Opaque revenge on Baron Kane felt like a thin excuse, but his thinking he’d be rewarded later felt more… draconic. More real.

It also gave Arthur the exact opening he needed.

“You still put me on the path I’m on now. I want to do this for you, Laird. I want to help you, and I want to help everybody else gain the combat cards they need. You spoke about being rewarded tenfold. This is it.”

And I can’t be sure you won’t betray me, he thought but did not add. You’re not going into that library alone.

He could almost feel Cressida cringing off to the side. The trained noblewoman in her likely hated the fact that he openly admitted he owed the dragon, but it was the simple truth. Besides, it wasn't like their goals weren't somewhat aligned.

"It wasn't like I could use a Legendary card without poisoning my core," Laird muttered, "and I honestly didn't expect you to survive. You were so… tiny."

He tapped one claw on the ground, considering.

Arthur already knew what he was going to say. A human being might refuse out of further suspicion, or, more likely, a sense of pride. If he were a man, his ego would be telling him to take on the library himself. He wouldn’t be able to let himself trust Arthur.

Dragons... were a bit more straightforward.

"But if you betray us, naturally, I will kill you, Legendary rider or not. Then I’ll simply take back that card that I gave to you," Laird said, ignoring Brixaby's outraged growl.

But Brixaby didn't put up too much of a stink, either. He knew that the battle was all but won.

Laird sighed. "How does this Personal Space of yours work?"

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