“You don’t need to know my name,” the Wyrm stated calmly. “I’ve had several spoken names throughout the centuries, but for now, you may call me by my title—the Archivist. And this—” he gestured around him “—is my lair, my kingdom. Nothing escapes me here. I guard all of Talon’s greatest secrets, from the time the organization was founded to now. I know every nook and corner. I have memorized every shelf, and every piece of information sitting upon it. I can recite every document in this place by heart, and tell you the date it was written. And in the long, long years I have been doing this, not so much as a sticky note has been stolen from the Vault.” He glanced at Riley, the hint of a smile playing over his thin lips. “Didn’t count on me, did you, ex-Agent Cobalt? Frankly, I’m rather disappointed. The Chief Basilisk once said you were his brightest student. You should have known Talon would not leave one of their greatest treasure hoards unguarded.”
My heart sank, but I took a deep breath and stepped forward, bringing the ancient dragon’s attention to me. “We need that evidence,” I said firmly, trying not to cower as those silvery eyes shifted, regarding me without emotion. My dragon shrank back, making me want to do the same, but I took a deep breath and stood firm. “We’re not leaving without it, no matter what you say. But you haven’t killed us yet, so I’m guessing you need something, too.”
The Archivist actually chuckled. “I see you are as defiant and reckless as they say, hatchling,” he said, making me frown. “But it appears you do actually have a head on your shoulders, after all. The apple does not fall far from the tree, it seems.
Another stab of shock. Did he know my parents? I wanted to ask, but the Wyrm’s next sentence froze the question in my throat.
“I could kill the lot of you,” he went on, as both Garret and Riley tensed. “That is what Talon would expect, and none of you could stop me. I could destroy the soldier of St. George, crush the outlaw dragon and his rogue underground, and deliver Ms. Hill safely back to the organization. That would certainly please Talon, and the Elder Wyrm.”
He paused, watching our reactions, probably enjoying himself as we held our breaths and waited. If he decided to Shift and kill us, there was zilch we could do to stop him. I wasn’t exactly sure how big a legendary Wyrm could get, but I did know our pistol rounds would be as effective as spitballs against a dragon that size. Our only prayer would be to scatter and hope we could lose him in the labyrinth of aisles through the Vault. Maybe he was so big, he’d have a hard time navigating the maze, like a human trying to catch a mouse hiding in a woodpile. Though that wasn’t a very comforting thought.
“Yes,” the Archivist went on, nodding thoughtfully. “That would please the Elder Wyrm indeed.” He paused for one more heartbeat, then smiled. “Fortunately for you, I am not that interested in currying favor with our esteemed leader. Especially since it was the Elder Wyrm who trapped me here in the first place.”
I blinked. “You’re a prisoner?” I asked. That was hard to accept. Unless I was missing something, I didn’t see how an iron door and a handful of guards could stop an ancient Wyrm from walking out if he didn’t want to be here. “Why don’t you just leave?”
“There are two type of cages, hatchling,” the Archivist said, holding up a bony finger. “One is where you have no choice in the matter. The door is locked, and your freedom has been forcibly taken from you. But the other is where you become a willing captive, caging yourself, because the alternative is not acceptable.
“I am the second oldest dragon in Talon,” he went on, and I heard an awed exhale of breath from Riley. “Second only to the Elder Wyrm, technically. There is...one...other older than me, but he fled the organization many years ago and never surfaced again. Within the organization, at least, I am the Elder Wyrm’s strongest rival. So, I was placed here—” he indicated the walls around us “—to guard Talon’s greatest secrets. To possess a wealth of knowledge, yet never be able to use it. If I leave now, I’d declare myself rogue and be cast from the organization, and then the Elder Wyrm would be free to come after me full force.” The Archivist gave a rueful, bitter smile. “So you see, it is safer for me here. The Vault is both my kingdom and my prison. It is an honor and a punishment at the same time.”
I felt a small flicker of hope, and leaned forward, heart pounding. “Then...does that mean you’ll let us take the evidence against the Patriarch?”
“Don’t jump to conclusions, hatchling.” He sniffed, and his eyes glittered as he speared me with a glare. “Make no mistake, if you had come here for any other reason, we would not be having this conversation. The human would be a pile of ashes on the floor, the rogue would be scattered in little bloody strips through the aisles and you, my dear, would be on your way back to the organization.”
“But?” I prodded.
He sighed. “But...the Elder Wyrm decided to pursue this disgraceful partnership with St. George, and I find myself vastly annoyed.” His lip curled in distaste. “Bad enough that we must hide our true selves from the throngs of human vermin. Now the Elder Wyrm forges an alliance with the very ones who nearly hunted us to extinction? Pah.” He made a disgusted gesture. “We are dragons. We do not need the Order’s help, for anything. It is shameful that Talon has come to this.