Page 16 of Henrikk’s Secret

“I know. But my desires have changed.”

How inconvenient for you. Although, I commend your ambition, ‘King’ Henrikk. You will never be satisfied, and that is the way of dragons.

“This is not ambition,” Henrikk insisted, keeping his head lowered. “This is…” Love. But the word failed him.

Yes? she hissed, her curiosity piqued.

“This is all I want now,” he managed. “Just Asher, alive and well.”

No. Her tone was cool and emanated finality.

He responded by saying nothing.

The silence stretched.

Sooner or later, the dragon would give in to her pressing need to strike a bargain.

Finally, that moment came amidst a puff of smoke.

In exchange for what? she asked haughtily.

“My life,” Henrikk said at once. “You may have it. A lifetime of servitude—I am at your service.”

An answering laugh, the internal harshness scraping the walls of his mind whilst the booming cackle reverberated around the cavern walls.

Your life is worth nothing, King Henrikk. It is desecrated. You, who have risen so high above your enemies by digging a grave deep enough to bury the world. Your soul is in tatters. I look at you, and I see myself, albeit a pathetic, weak imitation. Without me, you are nothing. I made you king of your kind.

“I only care about Asher. Please. He is dying.”

How ironic that you vampires are descended from healers, and yet you come to me for this favour.

Henrikk’s heart fell. This was his only chance to save Asher, but he would find no help here. He’d given every piece of his soul to this creature before him, and in return, he’d lost any leverage, respect, or power he may have had over it.

Give me something else, the dragon suggested slyly. Promise this ‘Asher’s’ life to me. I am sure I can put him to good use.

“I’m afraid I cannot make that promise,” Henrikk said stiffly, raising his head to make eye contact with the glowing red eyes. “His life is not mine to give.”

A half-truth. Asher would do anything he asked, he was sure of it. The dragon surely knew it, too, since she had read his thoughts.

But you wish that it was. A menacing chuckle. Oh, how you pine for him. What a shame. You used to be so strong. Never mind. Something else… Give me something valuable…

Another excruciatingly long pause. And then…

Give me your son.

Henrikk’s heart broke as he half sat up in disbelief. “Nathaniel? I cannot.”

Then we have no agreement.

Henrikk bent over, despair filling him. Suddenly, an idea formed in his mind. “A witch. I will get you a witch.”

A…witch? asked the dragon dubiously. What use is a witch to me, apart from a tasty snack?

The dragon was underestimating Barbara’s value. A witch at the height of her powers could do a great many things for the dragon; heal her wings, for starters, a complicated reconstruction that required a pure heart and good intentions, which the dragon therefore could not perform herself; a witch could also expand the cavern, a lair that the dragon had outgrown and struggled to squeeze out of when she went hunting for food in the ocean; it could lure the other dragons closer as well.

The white dragons. Elegant, noble creatures that soared through the skies, emanating bright magic that contrasted Dargotika’s corrupt one. Dragons that had exiled Dargotika for her greed and torn her wings. She missed them dearly. She desired to join them in the skies, and tear them limb from limb. Then, she would find their eggs. How those innocent, pure-hearted creatures would scream.

This last thought in particular was a dangled carrot, and Henrikk pushed these thoughts towards the dragon, like delicacies on a silver platter.