I'm about to mention that when the entire island lurches beneath us. The movement isn't dramatic at first. It feels almost like a ship moving beneath its passengers. Then the shelter creaks violently, and a shower of mud and leaves rains down from the ceiling.
Clyde stiffens and waddles outside.
I'm already moving toward the entrance when Vyrathion stands.
The transformation in his posture is immediate. Moments earlier he'd been lounging against the wall, complaining about crystal deserts and discussing the importance of proper hoard management. Now every trace of relaxation has vanished.
Something is wrong. Very wrong.
I follow him outside.
The rain hits my face hard enough to sting. For a moment visibility is almost nonexistent. Then I look toward the edge of the island and understand.
A huge section of shoreline is gone.
Fresh earth tumbles into the floodwater below. Several trees lean at dangerous angles where the ground beneath them has disappeared. The river churns with mud and broken roots, carrying pieces of the island downstream.
My stomach tightens. The island wasn't very large to begin with, but now it's noticeably smaller.
"What happened?" I ask.
Even as the words leave my mouth, I think I know the answer. The river boils several yards offshore. A ridged back emerges briefly through the floodwater before vanishing again.
The monster.
For a few seconds I simply stare. During its earlier attack, the creature tried to come directly onto the island. Vyrathion beat it back so easily that I almost stopped taking it seriously.
That was a mistake. The monster has adapted.
It isn't trying to climb onto the island anymore. It's trying to remove the island entirely.
The implications arrive one after another. The shelter. The remaining trees. The small amount of dry ground we still possess. If the creature keeps attacking like this, we won't need to lose a fight. The river will simply swallow us.
"It's undermining the shoreline," I say.
Vyrathion doesn't answer immediately. His gaze remains fixed on the water, and something about his expression makes me uneasy.
I've seen him irritated countless times. I've seen him insulted, offended, annoyed, dismissive, and occasionally furious when somebody threatens his treasure. What I see now feels different.
The monster surfaces again.
Its massive head rises from the floodwater like a moving island. Yellow eyes lock onto us through the rain. For a long moment neither creature moves.
Then the monster slams sideways into the shore. The impact shakes the ground beneath my feet and more earth collapses into the river. One of the trees tips completely over and vanishes into the current.
The creature disappears beneath the surface again.
Vyrathion takes a single step toward the shoreline and stops there, staring out through the rain. The movement itself is insignificant, yet something about him seems to change. A moment earlier he merely looks annoyed. Now he looks focused in a way that makes me uneasy. Water streams down his hair and shoulders while he watches the river, and when he finally speaks, his voice is quiet enough that I almost miss it beneath the storm.
"Enough."
The word isn't loud, but it carries a certainty that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. As I look from him to the river monster circling offshore, I suddenly understand that the creature has made a mistake. This isn't about territory anymore, and it certainly isn't about pride. The monster has threatened something Vyrathion considers his responsibility, and that responsibility appears to include me.
I swear his gold lines flash for a moment, as if current is running down them. Whatever prevents him from assuming his full dragon form still remains, but the glimpse is enough to remind me what stands beside me. Spending days traveling with Vyrathion sometimes makes it easy to forget. He argues, complains, tries to hoard, and occasionally behaves like an overgrown child. Yet underneath all of that is a creature older and more dangerous than anything I've ever encountered. He isn't a man with dragon traits. He's a dragon temporarily forced into the shape of a man.
The monster surges from the river again, sending water exploding in every direction as it slams toward the shore.
This time Vyrathion meets it head-on. He launches himself forward with startling speed, and the collision disappearsbeneath a curtain of spray so thick that I lose sight of both of them. The river churns violently.
