By Eric Kao

Fly adjusted his cloak—freshly pressed last night—and smoothed his hair—freshly oiled this morning—back for the tenth time that hour. He’d known oil was a risky choice, given who his client was, what his client was, but he needed to look his best. If this worked, he’d finally make it. Move out of his hovel, no more scraping by while whatever lord ruled at the time took nearly every coin he had. He patted his pocket where the paper nestled. It contained power beyond imagination. He just had to survive the sale’s pitch…

The rustle of gargantuan wings generated a tremendous wind that whipped Fly’s cloak around his ankles. He threw an arm over his eyes, shielding them from the frenzy of dust. Dirt particles swirled in the air, obscuring the lush grass he stood knee-deep in. So out in the open, he’d expected to see the dragon when he was coming. He must have come from behind, the opposite direction Fly had been told to expect. Most of his attention had been focused on the mountain that jutted from across the field. Or rather, his thoughts had been occupied musing if the mountain would function like the world’s biggest grave marker for him. It was underneath the mountain that he was more than likely going to die, after all.

His heart pounded in his throat and sweat beaded his back, making him glad he’d worn a tunic under his exterior tunic. Didn’t want to look nervous in front of the client. Could they smell fear?

The dragon descended into the field Fly stood in. The ground shook with the impact, making Fly’s legs tremble—more, that is—beneath him. The dragon’s wings remained fanned out, blotting out the sun that made its scales glisten.

Fly frantically took in as many details as he could. Who knew what would help? The dragon’s scales were blue-green.

Strange.

He’d heard the dragon was once called the ‘Sapphire Scourge’—legends told of a piercing blue flash through the sky, followed by blasts of fire so hot it was blue with only tinges of red and orange. Upon closer examination, the scales were similar to the iridescent tarnish of copper, tainted by a sickly green hue. Veins webbed through the thin skin of the wings and Fly swore he heard a pop as the wings retracted back in place along the dragon’s back.

The wind died down, allowing Fly’s cape to settle and he patted his well-kept hair. Not a strand out of place—so the oil had done its job. Hopefully, it didn’t backfire like his boyfriend had warned, and turn Fly into a glorified torch. He suppressed a grunt. Unsupportive mooch. If all went well, he’d be out. A smile threatened to break Fly’s professionally bored expression. If this worked, he might just get an entire consort of handsome young men. And that oil certainly would be coming in handy.

Fly shook himself, corralling his thoughts back, and he tipped his head up to the dragon. “Good morning, uh, Mr. Tott. Th-thank you for joining me.”

Tott snorted in disdain—or was it exertion?—and bowed his great head down. His scales might have been tarnished, but Fly’s blood ran cold at the sudden proximity. This creature could kill him in an instant, and likely would at the slightest provocation. And his entire plan was to piss the dragon off.

Not intentionally, of course. But it hardly seemed avoidable. Fly’s limbs burned from the lack of air and he gasped in a breath as quietly as he could, breathing once more.

Tott inhaled, making Fly’s cape flutter. Could he smell fear? The dragon opened his mouth, revealing long teeth. “Tott will do.”

Fly squeaked and nodded his head with as much dignity as he could muster. “Y-yes, Tott.”

“You believe you have something for me?”

Fly fought to control his nervousness, his hands balling into fists by his sides. It had never been done before. Probably never even thought of before. Fly unclenched his fists and wiped his palms on his cape. The amount of ridicule he’d faced when he voiced the idea. No one—not a one of them—had thought he should do it, much less that he could do it. Well, here he was. It was really happening.

Fly met Tott’s eyes, then spun and pointed across the field of tall grass to the base of the mountain. At the base, just barely visible, was a darkness. The opening. “It’s in there.”

As he led the way across the field, practically run-walking, his heart pounded pure dread through his body. How would Tott react when he found out?

Don’t kill the messenger. Fly wanted to elaborate on the statement: and please don’t incinerate, eviscerate, or masticate the messenger.

As they neared, the opening became apparent as the mouth of a large cave. One big enough to fit even Tott’s large frame. Of course it did. He had once lived there. Fly’s mouth went dry. Technically, he was still there. He retrieved a large stick and extended it out to Tott. “D-do you mind?”

Tott bent low and Fly fought the urge to cringe back. Tott’s lips pulled back, revealing teeth that were not at all diminished by age, and Fly’s hand trembled. A tongue of flame, narrowed and with perfect precision, erupted from the back of Tott’s throat. The fire—blue as sapphire—engulfed the tip of the stick in a showing of control. As Tott raised back up, Fly clutched a now-lit torch whose flame seemed to dance to the tempo of his frenzied heart.

Fly led Tott directly into the cave and they wound—Tott’s heavy steps echoing down the various tunnels—through the main artery. The final bend appeared. Beyond it, the tunnel would open into the large chamber where Fly would be killed on the spot… or not.

Fly rounded the corner and Tott let out a purr of appreciation. The torch illuminated the majority of the immense chamber. Various crags of rock formations clustered along the sides that caught Tott’s attention. He prowled past Fly and climbed to one of the larger ridges. His body curled into the recession, a satisfied hum rumbling from his body.

Tott hadn’t seen them yet. A bead of sweat ran from Fry’s oily hair, but he refrained from wiping it away. He refrained from making any sudden movement. Tott seemed oddly feline right now, just a giant, scaled cat curled up in a comfortable lounging spot. Let him fall in love with the spot first and let his guard down. Let him notice the large outcropping of rocks at the back, perfect for masking much of his hoard. Let him picture his rows of gems, his stacks of gold coins in that cozy spot. It was darker at the back, the light of the torch not quite illuminating it fully. Too dark to fully see what was hidden there.

As Tott walked to the back, head tipped as he surely imagined his possessions filling this prospective home, Fly found his feet were rooted to the cold ground. If he ran now, he could still survive maybe. Hide until Tott’s rage passed and he lost interest. Maybe move far away and hope Tott didn’t bother to hunt him down.

But if he ran, if he didn’t walk over and show Tott what the outcropping hid, then he’d never escape. The rule of the lords, the brutality of peasantry, the damnation of his station in the world. If he ran, he’d suffer a long, miserable death called ‘peasant life’.

Why not risk it? Risk a quick death if it meant getting out…

His feet broke from the stone and he trudged, as if possessed, to the outcropping. Tott leapt up and perched atop the stones. He craned his neck down, surveying the large space behind them.

Yes, he’d notice the ample storage it offered. Big enough for his hoard and for him to lay atop his treasures—the perfect defensive position when knights tried to steal back the gold and gems. Right now, Fly assumed Tott was realizing all of this.

Perfect. How perfect it must be for a dragon.

He wouldn’t notice the oddly long, white rocks clustered at the bottom, his eyes surely glancing past them. He wouldn’t realize what they were…

Tott’s wings fanned out partially, almost akin to a cat puffing its pleased chest out. “You have done well, human, in showing me this place. And you shall be rewarded.”

Fly dully clambered up the rocks, barely registering Tott’s words. “It is said Emrelsin kept his massive hoard in this very cave. Decades he gathered, the location of his treasure unknown.”

Tott chuckled, the vibration causing pebbles to shake from the outcropping. “Ah, Emrelsin. I knew him well—a mate from many decades ago. And he lived here, you say? What happened to him?”

Fly joined Tott at the top. “The same that will happen to you here.” He thrust the torch high overhead, casting light over the recess behind the outcropping. “He was killed.”

Tott reared back in an instant, his front claws flashing as they released the crags. His lips pulled back in the same manner as outside the cave when he breathed fire, only his mouth hinged far wider open this time.

Tott flung the torch down into the recess and, against every instinct in his quaking body, turned away from Tott. “WAIT. YOU’LL KILL US BOTH!” He pointed downward to the rocks, illuminated by the torch, at the bottom. Air swished at his back as Tott’s claws raked toward him and Fly cringed, while keeping his arm pointed down.

Too late. Should have never come—

The tip of Tott’s claw touched Fly’s back just below his neck, hard enough to slice into the skin, but no further. Fly huddled, near paralyzed with fear. A moment later, the claw withdrew and settled next to Fly as Tott transferred his weight back down to the rocks.

Fly released an explosive sob of relief and stood on shaking legs. He didn’t even dare look back at Tott. His back throbbed where the merest touch of the claw had torn open his flesh. A trickle of blood ran down his back.

Tott’s head appeared beside him as the dragon craned down to examine the rocks. “Are those…?”

Fly nodded and choked out his response. “Yes. Emrelsin’s bones.”

Tott growled, a wild animal’s fury made palpable in the prickling of every inch of Fly’s body. Tott’s panting nearly blew out the torch, instead making it contort and cast manic light over the bones. “Who did this? How?”

Fly climbed down the rocks, his hands so moist with sweat he feared he’d slip to his death. Wouldn’t that be a way to go after surviving Tott’s initial fury?

But he had survived it. Now, if he could just make Tott see. He was close. Closer than he had any right to be.

Fly dropped the last few feet and landed next to the flickering torch where it laid on the ground. “This place was discovered as his home and soon after, raids were planned by all the local lords.”

Tott’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Human greed. So their armies slayed him.”

Fly fumbled the clasp on his cloak and pulled it off. “Not quite. You see, before any of them could mobilize, a local thief slipped in, hoping to try his luck first.”

Tott twisted, jerking his attention from the pile of bones back to Fly. “Insolence! You dare suggest a thief, a single thief, could kill Emrelsin?”

Before Tott got worked up further, Fly shook his cloak illustratively. “No! No, not of all, m-my lord dragon.” He bowed his head, partially hidden by the cloak, and scooted toward the torch. “Though it is true, one individual—and one alone—killed Emrelsin.” Tott’s eyes tracked every movement and Fly prayed this worked. “He was killed by the greatest warrior to set foot in these caves. Uh, present company excluded, of course.”

Tott raised his head up, his anger temporarily allayed. “Ahh. Velitus, that human warrior. I had heard of his valor against the Stone Regent, but clearly he is more dangerous than I suspected.”

“Not at all.” Fly winced as Tott jerked his head back to him. “It is, as I said, due to the lone thief from the local village coming here.” Fly’s foot knocked into one of the bones, long deteriorated at this point, and it crumbled along an old fracture line. He winced at the seeming evidence of a dragon’s frailty. “BUT, that thief didn’t kill him. As soon as he arrived, Emrelsin incinerated him to ash. Not a single trace of him was ever found.”

Tott tutted and settled back down. “That is good, indeed. It seems you have me at a disadvantage, human fly. You knew this history before leading me here. Cease your rambling and I may even let you live.”

Fly ducked his head in a choppy bow. “I lead you here… to save your life.” He dropped the cloak onto the torch, extinguishing the flame. As the cave was plunged into darkness, he clapped his hands over his ears. The expected roar came, almost deafening even muffled by his hands, and dust sleeted from the ceiling. Fly snatched the stick and waved it, the embers in the wood tracing a luminescent arc. “Wait, wait!” A pinpoint of blue flame, in the distant tunnel of Tott’s throat, appeared in the darkness. Fly dropped the torch, his hands reflexively covering his head. “You’ll die exactly like he did!”

The hammering of Fly’s heart filled the silence for a few moments before Tott’s jaws snapped shut in irritation. “You mention his death again. Talk, human. Or I will christen this den in the fire of your long, painful death.”

Fly shrunk down, but raised the torch up illustratively. “This.” He nodded to the singed cloak on the ground, before realizing Tott might not be able to see him in the darkness. If he could survive this explanation, then the first part of his plan would be complete. Of course, that left the actual plan, still very much in question…

He blew on the embers at the end of the stick, causing them to glow brighter for a moment. “There, see? Fire—it needs air, just like us.” The embers faded, like luminescent worms burrowing back into the recess of the wood. “But fire is greedy. Now imagine if, in a place of limited air, a huge fire suddenly erupted. It would feast on the air…”

Tott settled back onto his haunches and snorted in realization. “Emrelsin—his fire consumed the vermin intruder, as well as sucking the air from this entire section of cave. He…”

Fly let his arm drop at last, his shoulders relaxing. The faint outline of the dead dragon’s bones was illuminated by the timid embers. “Like I said: he was killed by the greatest warrior to enter these caves. Himself.” He strode over and tapped a long leg bone with his toe, causing the brittle remnants to crumble in on itself. “He died on the first, and only time, he ever had to defend this place. Suffocated by his own fire.”

It had taken him a long time to figure it out. Legends had told of various dragon’s hoards found in caves with little to no sign of struggle. The assumption had long been that the dragons died of old age. And why not? There was rarely, if ever, any sign of intruders. And when other remains were found, they were little more than a pile of ash and charred bones. The reasonable explanation was that the dragon had killed them with ease. No one had ever connected that killing the intruders was, in fact, what killed the dragons themselves.

Tott growled, snaking his head down with his long neck. Fly tensed, as the great beast neared him. “W-wait! I can—”

A tendril of blue flame issued from Tott’s mouth, licking the end of the torch. The stick re-ignited, bathing the area once more in flickering light.

Tott’s cerulean eyes met Fly’s—this time with genuine curiosity. “It is clear you went through much difficulty to arrange this meeting. But unless you wished to die alone in a cave, you must have another motive. If it’s treasure you seek, some foolish expectation in providing this explanation, then—”

“No!” Fly shook his hand, before Tott completed whatever threat he was formulating. “I have a proposition. I told you I had found a place for you to live, and I meant it.”

Here it was. This—all of this—was his big pitch. Gain Tott’s trust, show the dragon that he’d done his research. A risky gambit, but the rest of his plan would never happen without a deep showing of sincerity.

Tott slowly retracted his head and turned away. His serpentine body slinked down from the outcropping, scales clinking over the rocks.

Fly scrambled back up as Tott crossed the chamber. “Don’t you want to hear it?”

Tott’s voice rumbled through the chamber as he continued away, not bothering to look back. “Be grateful, larva, that I am allowing you to live. Take that, as payment for your information on my old mate.”

Panic choked Fly once more. He’d come so far, gotten so close. He couldn’t let it all slip away. “YOU’RE DYING.”

Tott froze.

Fly’s shoulders heaved, causing the torch to bob up and down in his hand. “Your hoard is dwindling. You’re tired. And your brethren are fading. Face it. Dragons… are going extinct.”

Tott roared and spun back around. His mouth opened reflexively, blue fire roiling at the back of his throat. He snarled and snapped his mouth shut before releasing the mutually fatal flame upon them both. “You dare? I will tear you apart, hand from limb from torso. Foot from—”

Fly slashed the torch through the air. “But it’s true, isn’t it?” Tott reared back, raking his front claws. Fly eyed them, but thrust a finger at Tott anyway. “Human weaponry has advanced. Dragons are being killed and their old roosts are being eradicated.”

Tott shook his head and gnashed his teeth. “Grimearl, king upon the mountain—”

“Shot dead.” Fly picked his way down the rocks with care. “He was killed by a ballista that shot a massive bolt as he flew to his plateau.”

Tott drew back, blinking in shock. “Be that as it may. Fulcana, queen of the—”

“Volcano?” Fly shook his head. “She thought she was safe within the interior, always ready for raids from the volcano’s opening above. Caught her off-guard when they excavated in from the sides.”

Tott’s body slumped, his legs curled underneath him. “Excavated?”

Fly hopped down the rest of the way back to the cavern floor. “New human mining technology. They burrowed through the walls of the volcano and overwhelmed her.” Fly cautiously approached Tott where he sulked. “Humans have evolved. Innovated. They’re moving up to the top of the food pyramid.” He crept forward until they stood only a few feet apart. “And soon, they’ll supplant even dragons of their high, a-and noble, station.”

Tott’s claw shot out faster than Fly could react. Within a single heartbeat, the dragon clenched him in a crushing grip. The torch spun across the floor, sending shadows to dance along the walls. “I will die before ever bowing to a filthy human.”

Fly wheezed, unable to expand his chest to take a breath or speak. For all of his talk of suffocation by fire, he really had expected to die from the flames themselves, not suffocation by other means. He pried Tott’s topmost claw slightly away, enough to squeak out a few words. “Can… help!” Tott squeezed, forcing Fly’s arm to buckle. He managed to wedge his elbow against his chest, providing him with a final gasp. “Make powerful…”

The torch flickered on the cavern floor where he’d dropped it. Darkness hovered at the edges of his vision as his lungs burned. Had gotten so close. So close to finally breaking free.

Tott sighed and dropped Fly. “You irritate me, human. But I’ll concede: you’ve piqued my interest. Talk.”

Fly wheezed on his hands and knees, his entire body screaming from the aftereffects of being crushed. Even with the pressure gone, his ribs creaked in protest.

“Speak or I’ll kill you now.”

Fly desperately fished in his pocket while he fought to catch his breath. His fingers snagged the piece of paper and he whipped it out, holding it overhead.

“What’s this? A scroll?”

Fly pushed back to sit on his heels. “Better than an enchantment.” He swiped sweat from his head and shook the paper. “More powerful by far.”

Tott tilted his head, squinting at the paper. “A new magic? One of these human innovations you spoke of?”

Fly chuckled, sending twinges of pain through his ribs. “Oh yes. Magic, indeed. The power to change humans’ hearts, to command them to do as you say, to control their every thought and desire.”

Greed shined through Tott’s eyes and he licked his lips. He extended a claw out. Fly offered the paper and Tott delicately pinched it. He brought it up to his eyes and his brow furrowed. “No runes. What is this? It is written in the standard human language. I see no enchantment.”

Fly gingerly pressed to his feet with a wince. He dusted himself off and retrieved the torch. “I told you I could find you a new home. A place you’re safe. A place where your hoard is safe.” He grinned, his heart pounding, this time in anticipation. “What if I told you that home will be right in the middle of a human city?”

***

One year later

Gloam nervously glanced at the brass knocker, a heavy ring beneath the lifelike mold of a fearsome dragon’s head. The dragon’s eyes were inset with brilliant sapphires, so pure they sparkled as if fire danced within. Gloam patted his pocket, reassuring himself once again that the paper was secure. He took a deep breath and struck the knocker against the door. The loud reverberations set his nerves on edge.

From the other side, a heavy bar was raised out of the way. The lock clicked open and Gloam pushed the door open. It swung on well-oiled hinges, revealing the gaping interior. Marble columns stretched through the room like stone trees to support the arched ceiling high above. The bottom of each column had golden clawed feet that sent up shimmering reflections to clash with the blue-tinted light from the sapphire-crusted chandelier shining high above. The room was filled with rows and rows of desks, each manned by a clerk furiously scribbling on paper. A steady stream of workers raced from the clerks, snatching a paper to rush back to disappear through the back door into the interior of the building.

Gloam wrung his hands, uncertain of where to go, afraid of disrupting the chaotic dance and inciting fury. An attendant appeared by his side and, without asking, hauled him over to a desk where a clerk was barely visible behind a mountain of papers. The clerk’s fingers appeared above the stack and snapped at Gloam. “Well, go on, then. State your business, I don’t have all day.”

Gloam gulped and fumbled his paper from his pocket. He offered it to the clerk’s hand, hoping this was the right thing to do.

The clerk latched onto it like a cobra snapping up a mouse.

Gloam looked down at his hands with only the sound of the clerk’s renewed scribbling as confirmation that anything had changed. He knew he was late, but what could he do? The village had barely been able to harvest due to the fires. It was a miracle they had salvaged as much as they did.

The clerk popped up, his head appearing at last above the stack. “It’s not enough.”

“I—”

The clerk stabbed his quill in Gloam’s direction, raining dots of ink into Gloam’s mouth. “No excuses. You knew the agreement when you signed the loan.” The clerk lifted Gloam’s paper to his face, scanning it rapidly, before slamming it back down to the desk. “A loan of five hundred coins, to be paid out over two years with an interest rate of fifteen percent annually.” Gloam swallowed, specks of bitter ink blackening his saliva, and opened his mouth to protest. The clerk craned forward, looming over Gloam. “And the master generously agreed to allow repayment in hundred coin installments.” He tapped the table emphatically. “With the stipulation that late payments would be penalized—justly so—with a fifty coin late fee added to the principle and a one percent increase in interest rate.”

Gloam shrunk back and held his hands out. “Please. We can’t. Fifty coins… th-that’s more than we could possibly spare.”

The clerk’s eyes narrowed and he slid Gloam’s paper back to him. “Fine. Then am I to understand you’d like to terminate your agreement? That is your right. All we need is repayment in full.” He glanced at the paper and nodded. “Three hundred and thirty coins is the remaining balance.” He pointed to a counter on the far side of the room. “You can pay over there.”

Gloam’s breaths came in shallow pants. He couldn’t. The village couldn’t possibly pay. And that money had already been spent—the only reason they’d survived the fires. And then the resulting famine. He reached to his satchel with shaking hands. The entirety of the village’s spare funds were within. He held it out to the clerk.

The man upended the contents, spilling coins onto the already crowded desk. With swift motions, his fingers swept coins, two at a time, to one side as he counted. “That’s only forty-one. Nine more or the fee will not be met.”

“I can’t! That’s all we—”

Fly strode between the aisles of desks, his dark blue robes swirling around his legs. He absently touched his hair, though not a strand was out of place, of course. He arrived at the clerk’s desk and rested a hand on the man’s shoulder.

The clerk jolted and spun around, then his eyes widened and he bowed his head.

Fly chuckled and waved him down to his seat. He carefully swept the coins into the satchel and nodded to Gloam. “Now, now, there’s no need to pinch pennies with such a loyal customer.”

Gloam’s eyes bounced between the satchel and Fly. “W-we’ll get the amount. We just need time.”

Fly held up a hand with a gentle smile. “And you shall have it. We will accept this amount for the fee and I will personally see that the rest is waived.”

Gloam’s shoulders sagged in relief and he rose from his seat. “Dragon bless you. Thank you, my lord!”

Fly laughed and patted Gloam’s hand. “Go. Be your family—and know that you are safe under the Dragon’s wing.”

Gloam kissed one of the sapphire rings on Fly’s hand and hurried away, lighter his village’s savings but their future preserved another year.

Fly waved as Gloam retreated to the door. “And if you know any other villages in need, be sure to tell them of the Dragon Bank. The only bank backed with real gold. True Blue credit lines coming soon!”

Gloam disappeared back outside, the heavy door banging shut, followed by the iron bar and locking enchantments refortifying it. Fly bounced on his heels as he hefted the measly satchel.

The clerk ducked his head and held out a hand. “W-would you like me to run that back, my lord?”

Fly patted the man on the shoulder. “No, no. I think I’ll take this one back myself.”

He spun, satchel slung over his shoulder, and strode away. Through the door, past the guards and multiple checkpoints, winding through the twist and turns of the hallway as it eventually slanted downward on a gentle decline. The massive iron door, covered in protective glyphs, was inset into the base of the mountain itself. Fly swept his sapphire ring over the center of the door. Blue flame burst to life and ignited along a webbing trail etched into the door. When it reached the outskirts, the lock clicked and the door popped slightly ajar.

Fly eased it open further and stepped into the cavern. Torches, spaced along the cave walls on mounts, cast off flickering light. The amount of gold and jewels in the room was so massive, the sparkling reflections were nearly blinding. Fly shaded his hand with a grin and picked his way along a trail between mountains of treasure.

“You’re early, human.”

Fly walked up the set of stairs he’d had built into the outcropping. Tott lazed in his usual spot, hidden behind the rocks, lying atop a bed of sapphires. His scales gleamed so bright, he was almost camouflaged among the precious stones. Fly hefted the satchel and tossed it carelessly to the side to land near a collection of ruby-encrusted swords. “I’ll make the day’s deposit this evening, as usual. Just thought I’d check in.”

“And all is as expected?”

Fly leaned against a rock and polished a ring against his robe. “Oh yeah. We’re on target to make even more than projected this month.”

Tott purred and rose up, tipping his head at Fly. “I will admit, human. When you first voiced this idea, this bank, I had reservations.” He shook his head with a snort. “To think humans are this foolish. I will commend you: you have exceeded your promise. I am powerful once again.”

Fly slapped his leg. “Don’t sell yourself short, baby! You’re a god to these people.”

Tott’s throaty chuckled caused sapphires to rustle near his torso. “Truly. You are a credit to your race, Fly. And the other banks?”

Fly nodded, flipping a hand through the air. “Yeah, yeah. As soon as you gave your endorsement, another two dragons set-up operations in our strategic cities. They’re doing great—almost as good as us, to be honest.”

Tott grinned, his lips pulled over sword-like teeth. “Ah, excellent. You have done well.”

Fly pressed his palms together. “Hey, no. You burning the crops? That was genius. Voracia even took after you and caused a landslide near her city. You should have seen the numbers that month! People flocked to the bank, desperate for loans.”

Tott chuckled and rested back down into his nest of jewels. “Indeed. And every day, my hoard increases. Dragons, once more, reign supreme.”

Fly put a hand to his chest. “Dragon bless, for sure.” He thrust a hand into his pocket and withdrew a sheet of paper. “And we’re not done. Not by a long shot.”

Tott tilted his head, eyeing the paper. “What’s this? Another scheme?”

Fly grinned and held it up. “You bet. A disaster in the making is a fortune for the taking.”

“What have you dreamed up, human?” Tott craned forward, his hot breath tickling Fly’s face and threatening to disturb his hair. But Fly had tamed the hairs to perfection, smoothed with oil, and not a hair cringed from its designated place as he let the paper flutter to the sea of gems.

“Disaster insurance.”