I dissolved into shadow and fled.

  An eerie, unnatural silence smothered the forest. Every creature—furred, feathered, or scaled—lay still, dead or stunned. And those few that might still have clung to consciousness were holding it tightly, keeping silent so as not to draw the attention of the dangerous predator they knew was there.

  Because they had all felt me. In my panic, I had let my aura slip completely free of control, and that had done it.

  I raced through the trees until distance finally gave me the courage to stop. Only then, far from anyone, did the sobs begin to break loose. I could not remember ever feeling so terrified, so utterly humiliated, in all my dragon life.

  How had this happened to me?

  How was I supposed to face humans again when they would know the state I was in? How was I supposed to act? They would laugh at me, or pity me, and I could not bear either.

  I was still crying when Ju found me. I had felt her approaching long before she spoke. I was perched on a rock beside the small rivulet, tears slipping down my cheeks. At least I had regained control of my aura; the forest around us was slowly beginning to feel alive again.

  Ju came closer and let out a long, weary sigh.

  “Now, now, there’s no reason to behave like this,” she said. “What’s the actual drama? A few more hormones than usual running through your veins and suddenly it’s the end of the world? Honestly. Nobody has even noticed anything yet. I’m standing right next to you and I thought you were catching a cold, or something like that. So, tell me, what exactly is there to panic about?”

  I blinked in surprise. She wasn’t entirely wrong. Granted, not everything that had happened could realistically be blamed on a mere cold, but… why should I have to account for every strange thing I’d done? Could it be that the others truly had no idea? How would they know?

  There was no game indicator floating above my head announcing my status… right?

  She stepped closer and set a hand on my shoulder.

  “And secondly,” she went on, “even if I don’t know much about dragons, this situation seems to be very rare for them. Think about it: you’ll probably have this… let’s call it a problem… maybe once a decade, if not once a century. It’s like having your days only once every hundred years! All right, it happened now, but that’s a good sign. You’re done for years.”

  “It’s not the same!” I protested.

  She only shrugged. “I think it’s more or less the same. Honestly, isn’t it better to deal with this once a century than every month?”

  I drew a slow breath. Had I really changed my physiology so much that I was now more dragon than human, even while in my human form?

  I snorted.

  “With my luck, I’ll end up having this every month—alternating with my days.”

  Ju burst out laughing, and I couldn’t help but join her. She wrapped her arms around me in a warm embrace.

  “You were doing perfectly fine before,” she murmured. “There’s no need for all this drama. The only difference now is that you actually know what the problem is, so you can handle it, instead of panicking.”

  I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. She was right—there was no need to overreact.

  “Grubber brought you here, didn’t he?” I asked, giving her a sideways glance.

  She nodded, and I snorted. Of course. I had already sensed him, even though he was trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. The little dragon must have felt that something wasn’t quite right with me. I sighed and sent out a gentle pulse in his direction.

  I’m fine, Grubber. Don’t panic.

  “How did she react when she saw Grubber?” I asked.

  “You mean Tilda, the shaman? She was already half knocked out by your aura and barely understood what was going on. I made sure she won’t ask any questions—or talk about you, or… well, anything. I gave her two gold to cover the goat-and-chicken carnage you caused.”

  “Oh. Sorry about those…”

  Ju shrugged. “Don’t worry. You didn’t stay long. Most animals that were knocked down by your aura should recover just fine.”

  I exhaled slowly. The unlucky goats—and the poor, innocent tree—were beyond saving, but at least the damage was limited.

  Speaking of what I should do... she was right again. It was all just a matter of control. I did have a brain; I needed to use it instead of letting instinct jerk me around. In a way, it was a replay of the mess with Joe. Back then, it had taken me far too long, and cost me far too much, before I finally stopped letting my gut and my stupid wishes dictate everything. What on earth had made me cling to him like a desperate puppy guarding its bone?

  I shrugged.

  “You’re right. Let’s go back to the castle. I still have some meetings to attend…”

  She tilted her head and gave me an appreciative nod.

  It had been good that she’d brought me to the shaman; at least now I had some clarity about this damned situation. Knowing what was actually happening made it easier to regain control of myself.

  I focused on my breathing, trying to calm my racing heart. I felt like I needed to sneak behind the house and split wood, or do anything heavy, just to burn off the restless energy flooding my veins. Instead, I lifted my chin. The truth was, there was plenty of work waiting for me. Not the physical kind, unfortunately… but it would have to do.

  *

  The meeting with my boys began a little awkward, mostly because I felt awkward.

  I lifted my eyes to the three of them. It was one of our rare gatherings with just the four of us, and after those first uncomfortable moments, I was beginning to feel almost at home, just as I had during our meetings in Hew’s cabin, which now seemed so long ago. I could almost smell it again: the pine, the flowers, the faint traces of smoke. A quiet peace settled over me. I knew them too well, and they knew me, and we trusted one another.

  We were sitting on cushions—this was Tom’s so-called “Japanese Room”—and the low table between us was piled with finger food: vegetables, a few things resembling French fries, some jerky, small sausages, and pickled vegetables. The mix of scents and the cozy closeness brought back the same warm cabin feeling.

  I turned toward Hew. His face looked pale, and dark circles shadowed his eyes.

  “You look tired,” I said.

  He gave a helpless shrug.

  Tom paused in his absent-minded guzzling, looked up at me, and grinned.

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  “It’s not because he’s doing the work of twenty-plus Xsoha,” he said. “The real problem is that he can’t sleep properly at night.”

  For some reason, Hew’s cheeks flushed bright red. He snorted in irritation while Tom burst out laughing and Mike rolled his eyes shaking his head slowly.

  I raised a brow but didn’t press the issue.

  “So, how is your work going?” I asked, even as my mind tried to pin down the culprit. Was it really that orc girl I’d assigned to shadow and protect him?

  “It’s actually starting to work well,” Hew said. “We even have a couple of peasants getting and improving their harvesting skills, but…”

  That part was good news. I’d even heard they seemed to level up faster than before. I wondered what factor had helped—and whether we could push it further.

  “But?” I prompted.

  “This won’t be enough,” Mike finished for him. “Harvest season starts properly in a couple of days. The fields we’ve done so far were just early ones. The real problem is the too slow harvesting speed, as the killing-bugs swarm season is about to begin. If we don’t harvest before they arrive, we’ll lose peasants, lose part of the harvest, and if we don't prep the fields in time the second harvest might be in danger too.”

  “Why would we lose the second harvest?” I asked.

  “Because it might not ripen in time,” Hew explained.

  “Damn. Can’t the orcs protect our peasants?” I asked.

  Tom shook his head.

  “Drackar doesn’t have enough mages.”

  “Can’t we hire more mages?”

  Hew gave a helpless shrug. “It would cost almost as much as one of those harvesting machines. You said you’d buy one. Can’t you get it on credit?”

  I snorted, annoyed.

  “Is there anything else we can do?” I wondered.

  “We’re building protection houses in the fields,” Hew said, “but if a swarm attacks and then lingers around the shelter, the people inside could be trapped for days until a mage arrives to free them.”

  “Damn,” I sighed, then shot him a slantwise look. “But this could happen to you too. Can Wetina protect you from the bugs?”

  For some reason, Tom guffawed.

  Hew shook his head. “Against a stray bug or two, sure. But if a swarm comes, she can’t do much. Still… I do have the armor you gave me. I’m protected when I wear it.”

  “Then wear it!” I said.

  He gave a helpless shrug.

  “Yeah, OK, but wearing it all the time is so tiresome.”

  I snorted, aghast, then sighed in defeat. “Maybe I can talk to Drackar and ask him to assign that water mage, Egger, to guard you too…”

  “That won’t work,” Mike said, shaking his head. “She’s assigned to the fields near the castle.” He huffed. “Those damn bugs are a menace. A couple slipped under my armor last time—I still have a rash and a line of bites from wrestling them out. But with Hew's level? They’d burrow under his skin before he could dislodge them.”

  I shook my head, annoyed, and turned toward Hew.

  “If you’d do a few more dungeon runs to raise your level, you’d be fine. As it is, you must stay indoors while the bugs are out,” I decreed, arms crossed.

  “Dungeon runs aren’t for me,” Hew said with a shrug.

  Tom huffed.

  “I did enough, but to no avail.”

  I sighed. Unfortunately, Tom and Hew simply had no magical talent and would probably never make it past level ten. Damn it. Even in perfect conditions, not everyone had the talent to level quickly. Even Mike, who had some talent, would probably top out at level thirty, maybe forty, in his lifetime.

  Hew shook his head.

  “I can’t stay indoors all the time. The big swarms aren’t here yet, and I need to certify a lot of the work being done. The risk is manageable.”

  So much for my decree. They never really listened to me anyway.

  I pouted and picked up the pair of sticks Tom had placed on the table, trying—again—to use them to eat. As expected, I dropped the jerky before it got into my mouth.

  Hew looked up. “There are some other points I’d like to discuss with you about the orc kingdom. We’ve had a few talks with the orc delegation…”

  I raised a brow, then shrugged, let the sticks fall, and grabbed the jerky with my fingers instead.

  “Maybe it’s time to blow this whole thing up. As we discussed before, I’ll try to travel back to our world this evening.” I shrugged again. “I never asked to be the orcs’ queen. Maybe it would even be better for us to go there.”

  “You want to leave everything here and just vanish into the other world?” Hew asked, alarmed.

  “Will it work? And can you actually take us with you?” Tom asked.

  They exchanged uneasy glances.

  “Hey, boys,” I said, holding up a hand, “you know I won’t force you to stay or to go. We’ll just see where we fit better. We could even keep the castle if we wanted to. Anyway, as long as Sid is sleeping, I’m not leaving here. But the same way I brought Alice, Tina, and Lyn to our world back then, I should be able to bring you with me. I don’t have the ring anymore, unfortunately… but we’ll find another way.”

  “You have your inventory. Could you not put us inside it?” Tom asked, his brows wiggling suggestively.

  “Tom, if you’re about to make a glorious joke about being inside me, I swear I don’t know what I’ll do to you.” I let out a weary sigh. “Animals don’t survive being placed in inventory items. I haven’t tried it with mine, but… there’s little hope. Speaking of which, Lynx told me you almost died chasing after some girl!”

  “That was Helen—not just any girl—and I really like her!” he protested.

  Mike sighed, but before he could get a word out, Hew leaned forward, his gaze locking onto mine.

  “Why did you say you never asked to be the orcs’ queen? Do you intend to give it up?”

  I shrugged.

  “The thought crossed my mind. Why should I bother with their problems? Don’t I have enough of my own? Where am I supposed to get the thousands of gold they need? Why should I be the one solving their crises?”

  “Don’t tell me you don’t like being a queen…” Tom said, giving me a sly sideways look.

  I sighed. “Where exactly am I supposed to get that gold from, Tom? Should I go rob a few banks here? And how long would that money even last?”

  “Hm. Now that you put it like this… if you plan to go to our world, maybe there’s a simple way to solve this little gold problem,” Mike said.

  I raised a brow and turned to him, surprised.

  “What do you mean, Mike?”

  He lifted his shoulders innocently.

  “Well, there are places in our world where hundreds, sometimes thousands, of tonnes of gold are stored, right? With your magic abilities, who could stop you from taking what you need? They wouldn’t even be able to tell you’d been there…”

  I stared at him, stunned.

  Was he suggesting I rob the Fort Knoll treasury?

  Tom guffawed.

  “Mike! I wouldn’t have expected that from you... but… it’s not a bad idea! A couple of tonnes should be enough to solve Queen Lores’ current budget crisis.”

  Hew huffed.

  “That might solve the immediate problem,” he said, turning his gaze to me, “but there’s another point I wanted to mention. We have no idea how much of the orcs’ stated gold requirement is genuine—and how much is simply fabricated. From what I heard in their delegation, a portion of their ‘army’ is literally staying home and collecting pay. Apparently it’s widespread—at least if the grapevine is to be trusted. And there hasn’t been a proper audit in ages…”

  “Hah!” Tom exclaimed. “Are you saying the mighty orc army is basically a paper army?”

  Hew nodded.

  “Well… partially so.”