Page 42 of Henrikk’s Secret

Henrikk’s thoughts were filled with Asher.

What was Asher doing? What was he thinking about?

The dragon grew impatient, beseeching Asher to go to her, commanding Henrikk to extract the promised information from the general. The dragon could reopen a portal and relay the witch’s whereabouts to the other Henrikk in Wintermaw Keep.

“Have you thought of what Dargotika might do to Barbara if we gave her up?” Asher had asked—one of the few things the general had said in his new barrage of silence. “Do you even care what would happen to her in all of this?”

“Not particularly,” Henrikk said, mostly to piss Asher off, but it also happened to be the truth. He would have torn the world apart at this stage to keep Asher safe. The island was not without its dangers, notwithstanding that they were sharing it with an increasingly disgruntled dragon who was still waiting for Henrikk to hold up his side of the bargain.

Which was why, as much as Henrikk would have left Asher in peace to stew, he felt compelled to ask him, time and time again.

Who helped Barbara escape?

That key piece of information required only a name, and it would unlock the answers to where Barbara had fled to, or where she was hiding.

Had Henrikk known that his and Asher’s lives would depend on being able to procure a witch, he would not have killed so many of them.

But that was beside the point. At this stage, Henrikk sensed that the dragon was no longer driven solely by the wish to restore her wings, but was primarily driven by her obsession to see the bargain fulfilled. Dargotika had a single-minded focus and only crawled out of her cavern to hunt for fish. She had not once come to shore since their arrival, so Asher had been spared that fearsome sight at least.

Seeing me might just be the motivation he needs, Dargotika had threatened one early evening, her thoughts reaching Henrikk where he was cutting foliage to clear a path through the jungle. Perhaps I shall come visit him on land…if you have no objections?

Panic flared to life at the dragon’s threat, causing Henrikk to drop everything and sprint to the beach. He passed a surprised Asher who yelled to ask him where he was going. There was no time to answer—but, the cavern, obviously—as Henrikk splashed several feet into the water and dived.

He swam to the reef, ignoring the colourful tops as he pulled himself deeper, down past the outcrops until he was angling underneath into the shadows. Locating the crevice, he pulled himself into the dark maze. He’d become familiar with the winding tunnels after a dozen or so recent visits, but this was the second time he was making the treacherous swim without a full lungful of air.

The things I do for Asher, he thought grimly as his lungs spasmed, and his arms and legs burnt.

When he reached the dragon’s cavern, he collapsed in a wet heap, panting on the cold stone.

Dargotika was there, waiting, red eyes glinting in the darkness.

“Don’t,” Henrikk rasped between breaths. “Do not hurt him.”

I already know what motivates you, the dragon said in an unimpressed tone. Fear for his life. She rumbled an ear-shattering warning that blasted the cavern with sound for several terrifying seconds.

Henrikk tried not to cower as the sound died, and the dragon took a resounding step forward.

But what motivates Asher? Dargotika mused.

“I don’t know,” Henrikk admitted.

Find out. Or I will flay and roast him. You have three days.

The dragon whipped around with a flash of her pointed tail and dove into a pool of water until it was out of sight.

Two minutes later, the ripples had settled.

She had left the cavern. She had never done so in Henrikk’s presence before. Had she gone hunting? Or was she still here, lurking submerged in this pool?

Like any self-respecting Vampire King who feared the wrath of a dragon, he crept through the lair of whale bones and otherworldly treasures, searching for anything valuable.

A jewel-encrusted dirk with a curved blade caught his eye. Would the dragon notice it missing?

Theft would result in a gruesome death, that much he was sure of. He tested the blade’s edge against his thumb. Miraculously, it was still sharp.

When he swam back to shore, Asher was waiting with crossed arms. “Everything alright?” he asked gruffly.

There was an edge to his tone that gave Henrikk pause for thought. “Worried about me, were you?”