The witchy shop was dark when we returned, the enchanted lights extinguished. A “closed” sign was hung on the front door.
I knocked anyway. “Hello?”
The door slowly creeped open with a resounding creak.
Tandor looked at me questioningly. “After you?”
“Sure, let the lady enter first after the creepy door opened by itself.”
He smiled. “You’re the one with the magic. You can protect us if there are any monsters in there.”
I stepped forward to enter, but Tandor slipped an arm around my waist and tucked me behind him. “I’m joking, I would never send you first into danger, imagined or not.”
That warmed my insides.
We entered.
There were no monsters.
The shop was dark, all curtains drawn tight to keep the light of the setting suns out, but a small candle in the back allowed me to see.
“Hello?” I asked.
Hushed whispers sounded somewhere in the back of the shop. A quiet, nervous muttering.
“...Oh, protect us, Old Gods, keep us safe from the wrath of the dragon flame. Let these eggs remain whole…”
The witch was crouched on the floor, praying. That couldn’t be a good sign. I glanced at Tandor to find him looking as nervous as I felt. His dark brows were furrowed, his mouth a taut line.
I cleared my throat. “Did your coven come to the decision? Can I buy the egg?”
The witch rose to her feet, glancing at me nervously. “The coven has decided. You can take the eggs, yes. But you must be careful with them. There are three, and they must stick together. You must dedicate your life to protecting them.”
I gulped. A little more intense than what I was expecting, but I respected the passion. “Okay, sure. Done. I’ll protect the eggs. How much do we owe you?”
Her eyes widened. “With your life, you must protect them with yourlife. Your essence, your very being. You will be The Hand of the Dragons.”
Hex shuffled on my shoulder, slinking closer to my neck. I glanced at Tandor, but he simply shrugged, leaving the decision up to me. He slipped a hand over my other shoulder and squeezed reassuringly.
The Hand of the Dragons was a pretty badass title—it did the opposite of discouraging me.
I straightened my spine in an attempt to look more powerful. “I will protect the dragon eggs with my life.”
“Do you swear it to the Old Gods?”
“I swear it to the Old Gods.”
This seemed to satisfy the witch—her strange intensity eased, and a smile stretched across her face. “Great. Glad we got that settled. That’ll be three hundred silvers.”
Tandor coughed. Twice. And then he composed himself. “Three hundred silvers. For eggs that might never hatch. Great. Of course.” He pulled out his coin pouch with trembling fingers.
The witch grabbed the pouch from his hand, deftly sorting out the appropriate payment before tossing the pouch back to Tandor, almost empty. He missed it—the pouch smacked his chest before dropping to the floor. He fumbled as he bent to pick it up.
The witch drifted to the back corner of the shop, grabbing a large woven basket lined with blankets. She dropped it on the counter in front of us.
“Well, here you are. Three dragon eggs.”
Nervously, I approached to take a peek.
