It worked!
I'd paid the wizened old street witch for the spell with no expectation it would actually be effective. I paused... that street witch must've been more powerful than she looked. She'd warned me there would be a guard, too. The narrow door creaked as I pushed it open. I looked carefully but there was only a long, dark passage with a golden glow at the far end.
That would be the dragon. Or the treasure. They said it gave off a glow as rich and warm as lava - that the power of the dragon had leached into soft metals and hard gems over the years and imbued them with dragonfire.
I didn't care about the treasure. I came for the dragon. It slumbered deep beneath Burnt Mountain, surrounded by the wealth of the old kingdom, sated on the flesh of those it consumed as it destroyed their world. I'd heard the stories all my life. Snek was big as a mountain, long as a river, hot as the sun and smart as a whip. If you even imagined the treasure, Snek turned in his sleep. He could smell greed. It was his life's work.
I longed to see him, but the entrance to the mountain caves were blocked by the rubble he'd brought down to ensure his sleep went undisturbed. This passage was the only way in and it had been sealed with magic long ago. Nobody wanted Snek to wake before time. Nobody wanted Snek to wake at all.
I stepped through the door and began the long walk to the light. I'd dressed warmly, anticipating the bone-cold of caves, but as I drew closer to the light the air warmed. Hot as the sun, I thought. My footsteps slowed as I covered the last few feet. I slipped my shoes off and padded barefoot across the warm stone, breathing as shallowly as I could. I reached the opening. A wide ledge lay before me. I crawled to the edge on my hands and knees.
If it hadn't been for the outstretched span of leathery wing, I wouldn't have known he was there. He lay on a massive pile of gold and jewels, his scales as glossy and round as the coins beneath him. He curled, a gigantic S, around the shiny prize he'd won with fire and fury. His snout was an elegant interlocking of metallic teeth and his one visible eye a glowing, emerald slit. He slept with one eye open.
The sight of him filled me with awe. I have seen the dragon!
If only I could take a keepsake. A broken scale. One crystal whisker. I saw it then - below me. A single golden coin, its surface embossed with the profile of a long-dead queen. I reached for it.
A gravelly whisper sounded somewhere above me. "He must not wake."
A cold hand gripped my jaw and twisted. Something cracked. As the cavern darkened I recalled the witch's warning.
The guard.
