Page 46 of Henrikk’s Secret

The threat left Henrikk reeling, and he clutched a tree for support, struggling to breathe as the dragon receded from his mind. Just before it slipped out, it sent one last parting thought his way:

Or maybe I will have you play with him one last time. Would you like that?

Henrikk doubled over and threw up in the sand, his senses doused in bile and fear.

On the second day, Henrikk changed tack, constantly badgering Asher, pressuring him to change his mind and spill his secrets. It was to no avail.

The situation grew more desperate as time ran out, with the dragon’s threats growing more gruesome in description. It even sent horrid images into Henrikk’s mind of its sharp talons deboning Asher one vertebrae at a time. Henrikk hated being on the receiving end of such threats. In the past, he’d been the one doing the terrorising. Then again, it was the dragon who had made him that way.

Your ambition made you this way, Dargotika said, reading his thoughts when Henrikk went to plead for more time. And begging is unbecoming of a vessel I’ve graced with my powers.

“Then take your powers back,” Henrikk snapped.

The dragon cackled, I would…but you’ve none left.

Henrikk pressed his lips together. It was true. He’d transferred the little magic he’d had left to his copy to seal the trapdoor.

I do hope your second life makes good use of my magic, Dargotika said. It will regenerate in miniscule amounts. Yours, however, I will suppress...unless you succeed in returning to my good graces.

That answered his question on whether any of the magic would return.

His thoughts strayed to the Other Henrikk who’d volunteered to stay behind in Wintermaw Keep. The copy would tragically continue to carry the burden of the dragon’s magic, his soul becoming steadily blacker until there was nothing left of the man he’d once been.

You are as soft as the day I met you, Dargotika reproached. You have one day to deliver the necessary information on the witch.

The dragon’s words haunted him as he swam back through the dark tunnels beneath the reef.

You are as soft as the day I met you.

It was only when he returned to camp that he realised that that was a good thing. He’d felt the absence of the dragon’s magic, but it was only now that he realised just how much lighter he felt without it poisoning his mind. It was liberating, a feeling he would have appreciated more were Asher to forgive him.

Not that he expected forgiveness. He deserved this guilt, even though he couldn’t stand it. The dragon’s magic had buffered such unhelpful emotions away. Now, he was left to reckon with it alone.

That night, he couldn’t sleep at all and was jumpier than he’d ever been in his life. They weren’t truly free, not yet. Not until they gave the dragon what she wanted.

Henrikk promised himself that the third day would be different. He would make Asher see reason.

But when the sun rose on the third day, Asher was gone.

Henrikk searched for him everywhere. He was not at the camp, sitting sentry on his bench, or at the cove with his not-a-bed thingy, which incidentally had vanished as well.

Henrikk roamed the jungle, shouting Asher’s name, circling back many times to the camp in the hope of finding him there.

The sun drifted lower in the sky.

Well? the dragon asked impatiently. Have you secured the witch’s whereabouts?

Henrikk could not respond, but he felt the brush of the dragon’s thoughts as it read his guarded temperament before withdrawing.

Two hours, she warned, And I will help you find your Asher.

Panic set in, and Henrikk’s search became more frantic.

Suddenly, a realisation occurred to him.

A boat. Not a bed, not a platform. Asher had built a boat. Or a raft. Something that would presumably float.

Henrikk resisted the urge to go to the cove, knowing he would find it empty, and instead darted across the sand to Asher’s outpost. By now, it was more than just a bench. He’d built an observation deck thirty or so feet off the ground. It was a watchtower of sorts, with the timber platform standing on stilts and utilising palm trees for support.