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One of Sigurd’s tentacles slides through the tailored opening at the back of his jacket and curls securely around my waist. Before I can object, he lifts me onto the boulder with effortless care.

The cool ridges press through my blouse as my shoes find the stone. I catch his sleeve for balance, suddenly aware of exactly where the limb circles me.

“Thank you. I did have a plan.”

“You were studying the rock for quite some time, so I decided to intervene.”

“I was assessing my options.”

He steps up beside me, but the tentacle remains around my waist as we continue. Last night, I wondered what those ridges would feel like against my skin. This morning, even through my blouse, I have an answer close enough to make concentrating on the trail more difficult than it should be.

Whenever the path pitches awkwardly beneath my feet, the tentacle steadies me without slowing our pace.

A few minutes later, the incline eases onto a broad shelf of stone. I stop near the rock face while my breathing settles. Dark granite breaks through the emerald in harsh bands here, nothing like the polished terraces below.

I move closer to one of the seams. “This is what you meant yesterday about the granite core. I pictured the emerald covering it in cleaner layers, but up here you can see how the two formed together.”

Sigurd turns toward the rock beside me. “Most visitors only see the polished sections. Those hide much of the original structure.”

Pale fractures branch through both materials and disappear beneath the next ridge. I follow one of the broader lines with my gaze.

“Some of these breaks look older than the others. The narrower ones are much sharper.”

Footsteps scrape along the trail behind us as a low voice joins the conversation.

“That’s because the older faults predate most of the visible emerald growth. Later movement fractured both materials again, leaving the cleaner lines you’re seeing now.”

I turn as a man steps onto the shelf. He is nearly as tall as Sigurd, and his reptilian eyes are narrowed against the glare. Faint scales mark his temples, catching green reflections from the mountain.

He stops beside the same seam and studies the fracture I had been examining. “You noticed the difference without seeing the geological surveys?”

“I was just thinking the lines looked different,” I say. “Sigurd explained the granite core yesterday. Once you stop looking at the mountain as one enormous gemstone, the structure underneath becomes easier to see.”

The man inclines his head. “Vasili Drachen, of Lindwurm Capital. It seems introductions are overdue.”

I recognize the name immediately. Lindwurm Capital is one of the largest dragon banks in the world. It’s the kind of institution that appears in financial news even when you make a point of avoiding it.

“Valerie Priest. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine, Miss Priest. You have a good eye.” Vasili steps aside as another group passes behind us on the trail. “What is your profession?”

“I’m a librarian in Saltweather.”

“Then you work with the municipal maritime archive.” Vasili turns more fully toward me. “Lindwurm financed several shipping houses along that coast before the modern port authority existed. Some of their records disappeared into local collections.”

“We still have several of those ledgers. Some are in poor condition, but they’re catalogued.”

“My historical division has been trying to trace gaps in those records for years. I won’t delay you now, but I would appreciate the chance to speak with you again before the weekend is over.”

“I’d be happy to help if our collection has what you need.”

Vasili thanks me and continues up the trail. Once he disappears around the bend, Sigurd and I resume the climb. The hold at my waist is slightly firmer than it was before Vasili approached.

“You didn’t say much back there,” I tell him as we follow the trail around a narrow outcrop.

“I was listening. Vasili rarely becomes interested in anything without a reason.” Sigurd guides me over a patch of uneven ground before continuing. “I also saw the way he looked at you, and I didn’t particularly enjoy it.”

Every inch of contact between us becomes noticeable again. I glance up at him as the meaning of the admission sinks in.