“Lindorm Phylactery,” he said, and slowly reached out a hand as if he was going to take it. I scrambled backwards, falling over a table and a dragon who lay on the floor groaning, clutching the platinum case so hard it cut into the flesh of my palm.

To my horror, it didn’t seem to want to be held. It slipped out of my hand and rose straight off my chest, the chain cutting sharply into the back of my neck as if it was answering his call. I grabbed at it again, using both hands to pull it back to me.

The man snarled something,

“Mayling!” Gabriel yelled, his voice coming through to the shadow world faint, as if he was a great distance away. It was hard to hear over the dull noise of everything going on around us, but I could pick out a few words. “. . . use it!” he shouted. Behind the mysterious man, the wyverns had commenced their attack on the gunmen, Drake’s people swarming the one nearest them, a full-fledged battle going on as the other three gunmen were simultaneously attacked. I caught sight briefly of Gabriel as he and Tipene fought one of the shooters, Gabriel ripping the automatic weapon from the latter’s grip, slamming the butt of it down onto his attacker’s head. He turned back to me and yelled something, but it was impossible to make out the words. Three more men appeared in the doorway, throwing themselves on Gabriel as he called out again.

“Use it!”

The phylactery—he wanted me to use the phylactery. He must have seen the mysterious man as well, and he wanted me to use it in order to protect it from capture.

The man in front of me snarled again, making a sharp gesture. The platinum casing that held the phylactery exploded, small bits of metal piercing my hands and stomach.

I bit back an oath at the sudden pain, clutching the vaguely dragon-shaped lump of gold that was revealed. I studied it for a fraction of a second, unsure of how I was to use it. I wasn’t a dragon; such things were not instinctual to me.

The man took a step toward me, lifting his head slightly as if he was scenting the air.

“Mate,” he said, the word holding equal measures of disbelief and anger. “Silver mate?”

“Who are you?” I asked, unable to keep from speaking.

He shook his head, and for a moment I thought he was going to turn and leave. But he launched himself at me, knocking me painfully backwards onto overturned chairs.

Gabriel shouted again, and time seemed for a few seconds to telescope. The doorway was black with bodies as reinforcements streamed in, attacking the dragons, who had managed to take three of the four gunmen down. There was no way we were going to be able to stand against those sorts of numbers, not when we had been taken by surprise.

Light was blotted out as the man rose above me, his eyes glittering with a bluish black light that scared me to death. Electricity gathered in the air around him, giving him a blue corona that made the air crackle.