Austin Koch wanted an alliance with the last wild dragons, but he could not find a single one. He stood in the ruined watchtower where the elven kings once kept their old maps. His gold and white armor caught the gray light. He held a worn dragon scale in one gloved hand. Its green and violet ridges gleamed even after years of shedding. Somewhere north, its owner still flew. Austin had followed rumors for three months. Every trail ended in empty peaks and cold ash. Without a nest to find, his mission was dead before it began. He set the scale on a cracked stone table and pressed his fist against it. "Show me something," he said. The scale stayed silent, as scales do. "Talking to rocks now?" Austin turned. Thorn Nightshade crouched in the doorway, half hidden by shadow. Leaves and twigs clung to their green hood. Small bone charms hung from their belt. Austin had met the rogue druid only once, at a border camp, where they had picked his coin purse and then handed it back to prove a point. He did not trust them. He also did not know anyone else who spoke to wild things and lived. "I need the dragons," Austin said. "You know where they nest." Thorn stepped inside and studied the scale without touching it. "The wild ones don't want to be found. Especially not by a man in shiny armor holding a sword." They tilted their head. "But you kept her scale. That's interesting." "Her?" "The black one. Iridescent, like oil on water." Thorn crossed to a covered shape in the corner and pulled off a dusty cloth. Beneath it stood a tall obsidian mirror, its face black and smooth, ringed with silver moons. "This shows dragon flight paths. I stole it from a dead king's vault. It only wakes for a true scale." Austin's chest tightened. "Then wake it." Thorn lifted the scale and pressed it flat to the dark glass. The obsidian surface stirred. Pale threads of light spread across it like smoke. They curled into a shape, a mountain range, then a single thin trail that climbed to one peak far in the north. A dragon marked its end, wings spread. "There," Thorn said. "The last nest. High in the frozen ridge, where no elf has flown in a hundred years." They pulled the scale away, and the image held for a breath, then faded. Austin gripped the table's edge. He finally knew where to go. Relief and dread hit him at once. "One problem," Thorn said. They slid the scale into their own belt pouch. "You'll never reach that peak alive without a dragon to carry you. And the only tame dragon in Yewshade belongs to me." Austin stared. His path was clear now, and it ran straight through the one thief he could not trust.