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a kettle on the boil, but was quieted by another graceful hand from the Overseer.

“Our previous expeditions were, as you so eloquently put it, mainly just to show that we were there,” the Overseer admitted. “To show any potential spies of the Shadow Nations that we, indeed, still have a presence down there. I will tell you that it was mostly a team of sappers, a handful of dragonmancers, and a small company of regular troops. We were hoping to find some useful relics in some of the myriad networks of tunnels.”

“And now?” I asked. “Now that you’ve found out what I am? What I can do? And what we need from down there?”

“Things have changed, yes,” the Overseer replied. “Our patrols, and our efforts, have increased tenfold. You hold the key to the regeneration of our dragons, Mike Noctis. You personify the continuation of the Mystocean Empire.”

There was some muttering around the table at this declaration, but I ignored it.

“I assume that you must have some sort of staging post now then,” I said. “It’s taken quite a while for this expedition to get the go-ahead. I couldn’t think what the goddamn hold-up was, but now that I come to think about it, I guess that it’s because you’ve been fortifying your position.”

The Overseer gave me a searching look. “That’s right. A veritable town has been constructed within the shadows of the Western Gate of Galipolas Mountain. It is there that the initial work and labor of clearing a path to enter the Subterranean Realms is being undertaken. All of the entrances that used to exist—at least those known by the Empire—were sealed with rubble and debris after the Shadow Nations were defeated a millennium ago. We are carefully clearing one of these entrances now.”

I nodded. Penelope had given me a brief history of the old war with the Shadow Nations. This seemed to tally up with what the Knowledge Sprite had told me.

“The entrance that we are trying to excavate lies somewhere within the ruins of what was once an Iron Dwarf city,” the Overseer said. “Now that the Martial Council has been sent word that the first area of the mines is secured, we are willing to allow you, Dragonmancer Noctis, to travel to the Western Gate of Galipolas Mountain. “

It took all my self-control not to say, “About fucking time.”

Instead, I said, “I appreciate it, Overseer. When can I leave?”

The waspish woman with the pale pink hair was the one to answer this question. She peered at me superciliously down her nose. “You should understand, Dragonmancer Noctis, that, typically, students of the Academy during an expedition such as this would guard the rear, flanks, and the supply lines. They would act as messengers and runners. They would move around supplies. They would man pickets ahead of, or around the main body of troops, so that they can detect the enemy and slow them down before they encounter the main body of troops.”

Somehow, I managed to hold my tongue as this woman explained herself to me, as if to a recalcitrant child.

“You, however, will not be doing any of this,” continued the pink-haired member of the Martial Council. “By the express wishes of the Overseer, you shall be placed in the middle of a powerful group of dragonmancers and sent out into areas that have already been cleared.”

“Sounds good to me,” I butted in, firing a small smile right into the waspish woman’s face. “I’d like to be in the thick of things, but I understand that you don’t want to risk your one hope to stop dragon extinction. Either way, I just want to find what I need to save my son.”

The woman’s lips peeled back from her pale gums, as if she was about to spit venom at me.

“Your job is to seek out the crystals and whatever might restore your potency, Mike,” the Overseer interjected. “Thus, the mission of everyone in the group that surrounds you is to protect you and keep you safe from harm.”

My lip curled in slight disdain at this, but the Overseer held up a finger; a gesture that made me hold my peace.

“You are very, very important to this Empire, Mike,” she carried on, her words frosted with unmistakable sincerity. “Given your special abilities and your personal interest in this mission, the Drako Academy and Empress Cyrene herself are making an exception for you. Your company will be called in after the main body of our fighters clears out each area and frees it of enemy troops.”

“You think there will be resistance, Overseer?” Saya blurted from behind me.

“There will surely be enemies,” the Overseer said. “As surely as the Subterranean Realms have been home and sanctuary for the Shadow Nations all these long years.”

“I thank you for making the right decision, Overseer,” I said, trying to interject my voice with the proper respect and gratitude. “I thank you for making this easy for me.”

“Knowing the sort of man you are, we are left with little choice,” the Overseer said, with the ghost of a smile. “You must go there, into danger.”

She was right on that score. I did.

“But I have something to ask of you, Mike Noctis,” the Overseer said. “A personal favor to me.”

“Anything,” I said without hesitation.

“Follow the orders that you are given. Please. Even if those orders mean that you will survive while all your fellow dragonmancers with you perish. You must not die, nor must you place yourself in any kind of danger. The fate of the Mystocean Empire, and all those who call it home, lies in your hands, Mike. Will you do that for me? Will you fight for us, as we need you to fight?”

I swallowed. I could not look at Elenari or Saya standing next to me.

“I will fight as you need me

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