Gerri leaned forward, her perfectly manicured hands hovering over the artifact without quite touching it. The expression on her face was unlike anything Maple had ever seen—a combination of awe and recognition that made her look like she was witnessing a miracle she'd been waiting her entire life to see.
"My dear," Gerri whispered, her voice filled with something that sounded like reverence, "you've just unearthed a dragon claim marker."
The words hit Maple like a blow, stealing the breath from her lungs. Her mother's sharp intake of air suggested she was equally stunned, though probably for different reasons.
Dragon claim marker. Dragons are real?
The artifact seemed to pulse in response to her racing thoughts, its inner glow intensifying as heat flooded her system again.
"That's impossible," her mother said, but her voice lacked conviction. "Dragons are mythology, folklore, cultural symbols?—"
"Oh, Marie," Gerri said with a smile that held secrets older than civilizations, "you'd be amazed what exists just outside the boundaries of academic acceptance."
Maple barely heard the exchange. The artifact was calling to her again, that strange recognition flooding her senses until she felt like she might drown in the intensity of it. Whatever this thing was, whatever it meant, there was no going back to pretending the world was exactly what she'd always believed it to be.
"You can't turn this over to any museum," Gerri continued, her tone becoming suddenly serious. "This could be dangerous in the wrong hands. I need to contact Bram immediately."
"Who is Bram?" Maple managed, her voice coming out rough.
"A contact of mine who will be absolutely delighted about this discovery and will know exactly how to move forward with proper caution."
Proper caution?
Her mother's practical nature reasserted itself with visible effort. "Just keep this out of the news and please make sure my daughter doesn't get arrested for trespassing and stealing something from Trigg Corporation land."
Gerri waved a dismissive hand as if legal matters were the least significant concern in the room. "Don't worry, Marie. I'll make sure this whole situation is handled exactly as it should be. Trust me, the only trouble here will be the kind least expected."
The cryptic response sent a chill down Maple's spine. "When can we meet with this Bram?" Maple asked, surprised by how steady her voice sounded.
"Well," Gerri said, rising with fluid grace and smoothing down her perfectly tailored suit, "if you're willing, I can take you to meet him right now."
Right now?
But looking at the artifact pulsing with otherworldly energy, feeling the way it seemed to sing in harmony with something deep in her chest, Maple realized she didn't really have a choice. Her old life—the one built on logic and evidence and carefully controlled curiosity—was already over.
The only question now was what would replace it.
Maple moved with movements that felt disconnected from her body as she wrapped the artifact, closed the box, and handed it to Gerri, the dark fabric of her jeans and sweater suddenly feeling like armor against whatever reality she was about to step into.
"I'll handle everything from here," Gerri assured Maple's mother, her voice carrying that same warm authority that had somehow convinced Maple to trust a complete stranger. "Don't worry about the legal complications—this situation requires a different kind of expertise."
Her mother's goodbye felt stilted, weighted with unspoken warnings and maternal anxiety. "Be careful," her mother whispered, her academic composure cracking just enough to reveal the worried parent underneath.
Minutes later, the drive began normally enough—Gerri settling into the passenger seat of Maple's modest sedan with thegrace of someone accustomed to luxury but unbothered by its absence. But as they left the familiar streets of Phoenix behind, Gerri's directions became increasingly surreal.
"Take the next right, dear."
Maple glanced at the GPS display showing nothing but empty desert. "There's no road here."
"Trust me."
The path that appeared beneath her tires felt more like a suggestion than an actual road—packed earth that seemed to know where it was going even if she didn't. The landscape around them shifted to raw canyon country, red rock formations rising like ancient beings against the blue sky.
This is insane.
But the artifact in the treasure chest on Gerri's lap seemed to hum in rhythm with her heartbeat, as if it approved of their destination.
"Turn left at those boulders."
