The air had changed.

  Ash drifted on the wind, curling like snowflakes through the jagged mountain pass. The sky was veiled in smoke, the sunlight turning everything a sullen gold. Far ahead, dark ridges loomed against the horizon—sharp, broken teeth of stone. The dwarvish lands.

  "Well, here we are. These guys are rough—don’t take kindly to outsiders," Kurai said.

  "Umm, I don’t know where you’ve been, but that’s been pretty much everywhere we’ve gone at this point," Astrid pointed out.

  Kurai didn’t argue. She had a point.

  "Come on. Let’s get this over with."

  He walked in silence, his coat catching the wind, eyes always scanning the ridgelines. Every step closer to the mountain made something deeper in him tighten.

  He didn’t like being beneath the earth. Not without knowing every escape route. Not surrounded by stone.

  Astrid trudged beside him, clutching the rolled-up map. Her boots kicked up gravel with every step. The tension between them from the night before still lingered, unspoken but heavy.

  She hadn’t brought up the dream. And he hadn’t asked.

  Eventually, the mountain opened before them. Carved into the blackened rock, massive stone gates stood layered with ancient gears and glowing rune metal. Ash gusted from above as the mechanisms groaned to life, grinding open with a sound like thunder.

  A row of dwarvish guards stood inside—broad-shouldered, thickly armored, their eyes sharp beneath bronze helms. Their weapons hummed with embedded enchantments. Each one looked built to break a wall.

  One stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "State your purpose."

  Kurai stepped ahead, voice steady. "We wish to be granted access; we need rest and supplies."

  A pause. "Very well then. Don’t wander off." Then, begrudgingly, they were let through.

  Inside, the city yawned open like a forge-breath. Great halls stretched downward, carved straight into the rock, glowing rivers of lava crisscrossing beneath metal bridges. The air smelled of soot and heat and oil. Machinery clanked in the depths, rhythmic and unyielding. Steam hissed from vents. It was as if the mountain was alive.

  Astrid looked around in awe. "This is insane."

  Kurai kept walking. "I hate this heat. It’s suffocating."

  They were led through winding tunnels. Looking back, Astrid noticed the way Kurai scanned the shadows, fingers twitching like he expected the walls to close in. She didn’t mention it. Better to let him simmer than snap.

  They arrived at a chamber where a stocky dwarf with soot-slicked braids waited. "So," he rumbled, leaning on a hammer the size of Astrid’s torso, "you need supplies, I hear?" His voice was rough, deep, but friendly enough.

  Astrid stepped forward. "Yes please. And we’re also looking for a dragon. We were told you would be our best lead?"

  Kurai pressed his hand to his face, in embarrassment. She didn’t care—she needed answers.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  “You really just came out and said it” kurai wanted to disappear.

  The dwarf snorted, then let out a bellowing laugh. "A dragon! Oh, kids these days." He struggled to speak between bouts of laughter.

  "Well, you are right that we would be the best place to start. The name’s Galgur. I’m in charge of this forge." He wiped his eyes and had a friendlier tone. "This here forge is run by dragon flame. Been burnin’ since the ancient ones. Dragon flame is the only way to make a proper forge, kid."

  "Wow, that’s amazing. So, this is the same flame? From a real dragon?" Astrid was intrigued, looking closer at the flames. They did look different—hotter, older. Almost golden.

  They talked briefly. Galgur agreed to let them stay the night. They could rest and resupply. Kurai warned Astrid not to speak of the Council. They didn’t want their safety revoked.

  It wasn’t exactly safe. But nowhere was.

  They were given a room carved into the mountain, sparse but dry and warm. Kurai paced while Astrid unpacked.

  His silence pressed against her like a door she wasn’t allowed to open. It reminded her too much of home—of being dismissed without a word. So, she filled the space instead.

  "What’s wrong?" she said without looking up.

  "I’m fine."

  "Sure, you are. Look at you. The picture of calm and collected," she teased.

  "Not all my thoughts need to be said out loud."

  "Well, if they concern me—which I bet they do—then yes. Spit it out." She crossed her arms.

  "I just don’t like it here, okay? Let’s just get what we need, chase up some leads, and get out of here." He sounded frustrated, but not at her.

  This place is really making him uncomfortable; I wonder why? Claustrophobic? No, he was fine in the elven city and that was underground.

  Another piece for the Kurai puzzle, I guess.

  She nodded. "Alright. I’ll talk to Galgur and see if there’s anything that can give us some information." She turned and left.

  Just keep him calm, Astrid, she said to herself. The last thing I need is him blowing up again.

  She made her way through winding tunnels to a chamber where the stocky dwarf leaned over an anvil, wiping his hands with a thick cloth. The glow of the forge painted his skin in firelight.

  "Galgur?" Astrid asked.

  "Ah, Astrid! You settling in alright?"

  Astrid hesitated. "Yeah. It’s… different. Hot. Loud."

  Galgur chuckled. "Aye, the mountain’s not for everyone. And your friend? He’s quieter than a mouse in a thunderstorm. Looks like he’s ready to bolt any second."

  She smiled faintly. "He’s not used to places like this. A bit of a claustrophobe, I think."

  Galgur raised an eyebrow but let it drop. "Fair enough. What can I help you with?"

  "We were hoping you had some archives, or something? Anything you might have on dragons."

  He studied her a moment, then nodded. "Alright, come on. I’ll take you down."

  Later, Astrid followed Galgur through a winding stair carved into the mountain’s bones. Kurai trailed behind, grumbling under his breath.

  They descended into a vault of shadow and firelight. The archives were vast—rows of ancient tomes and glowing relics resting in niches cut from stone. Lava flowed in thin rivers along the outer walls, casting everything in pulsing orange.

  "Wow," Astrid whispered. "You could get lost in here."

  "You might," Galgur said. "But there’s no better place for old truths."

  She moved closer to a shelf stacked with timeworn scrolls. "How far does this go back?"

  "Far enough. These halls were carved before the Council ruled. When dragons still flew."

  Astrid turned sharply. "You really believe they were real?"

  Galgur gave her a knowing look. "Belief’s not needed when you’ve got scorch marks that never fade."

  As they walked, Astrid peppered him with questions—about the runes, the machinery, the lava channels. Galgur humoured her, occasionally chuckling.

  Kurai stayed close, but didn’t speak. She could see his eyes tracking every corner, every corridor. He was looking out for the threats.

  Galgur’s voice boomed through the empty hall. "You really have got the hunger lass. Most folk just want answers handed to them. You? You want to dig."

  Kurai rolled his eyes. "Be careful. She’ll talk your ears off."

  Galgur laughed. "Let her. I’d rather her questions than most men’s silence."

  "Is that directed at me?" Kurai snapped.

  Astrid rolled her eyes. God, he’s such a hothead.

  Then something pulled at Astrid’s senses. A flicker. A hum. A feeling.

  She turned and walked slowly toward a pedestal half-hidden in the shadows. On it rested a cracked, chained stone—dull gray, veined with something darker.

  She reached out. The moment her fingers touched it, the runes on the chains flared. A pulse of warmth rolled outward.

  For a heartbeat, something flashed in her mind—eyes, slit like a cat’s, glowing gold. A mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. Fire spilling out from between them.

  It was gone as fast as it came, but it left her breathless, her skin tingling with heat.

  The room went still.

  Kurai stepped forward. "Astrid—what did you—"

  Galgur’s face darkened. "That relic hasn’t reacted to anyone in centuries."

  Astrid pulled her hand back. "I didn’t mean to. It just… I don’t know."

  Galgur moved closer, studying the glowing runes. Then he turned to Kurai. "What’s going on here? What aren’t you telling me?"

  Kurai stepped in front of Astrid. "We’re not even sure what it is."

  "That’s not good enough," Galgur snapped. "Things don’t react like that without reason. That stone’s part of something older than this city. It was sealed for a reason. You don’t go poking sleeping beasts without expecting claws."

  He looked at Astrid for a long moment, voice lower. "You seem like a good one, lass. But good intentions still start fires."

  Astrid’s voice was soft. "Is it… a dragon?"

  The dwarf didn’t answer right away. Then: "Part of one, yes—well, so the ancient texts say." He stared at her, brow furrowed. How had she known that?

  Silence fell.

  Kurai clenched his jaw.

  Astrid stepped in. "I’m so sorry, Galgur. I didn’t mean to… I would never do anything to bring harm to you and your people."

  Galgur looked between them, eyes sharp. "We need to speak to the elder—get some answers. Till then, I want you to return to your room and stay there. Don’t talk to anyone. You’ll be called upon soon."