Arthur had caught glimpses of the crafting cave before his talk with Laird —enough to get a rough idea of where Brixaby and Joy were heading. But as he and Cressida walked up to the mouth of the cave, he realized that he had thoroughly underestimated its size and scope.

The cave seemed to have been dug out of half of the mesa. Yet, light-based card anchor spells kept it from being gloomy.

What shocked him more was to see dragons working as crafters. Alone. He had got the impression that perhaps they were working alongside the riders—maybe the pair had shared a card. Certainly, dragons were working alongside humans.

But many of the dragons seemed to have booths of their own, talking to other dragons and showing off wares. Some were even doing blacksmithing or working on giant, dragon-sized looms. One was doing pottery on a spinning wheel— the clay vase was quite impressive.

In fact, there seemed to be more dragons than there were humans—or maybe the size of the booths for dragons was just so much larger that they dwarfed their human competitors. Because it was clear at a glance that these dragons weren't playing second fiddle to crafting humans. They had their own businesses. A whole economy.

Arthur exchanged a glance with Cressida, who looked overwhelmed. He could see the same realizations churning behind her eyes.

"What do you think?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I... I don't know..."

But Arthur did. A slow smile spread over his face. "I think this is wonderful."

"You do?" Her tone surprised him.

"Don't you?" he asked.

She looked into the cave ahead of them. One orange dragon was working at a forge, pulling out a long sword the length of a horse and laying it across an appropriately sized anvil. When he brought down the hammer, Arthur suspected anybody nearby was in danger of being deafened.

"I don't know," Cressida replied with a frown. "There's nothing wrong with it, it's just…" She trailed off for a moment, shrugged, and then looked back at Arthur. "When I see a dragon do that," she gestured to the one who was tempering the sword, "it makes me wonder what they could be doing against the scourgelings with that kind of strength."

"The Free Hive doesn’t regularly fight the scourge.”

"I know, Arthur." Her voice took on a little impatience. "And I'm not sure how I feel about that, either. Dragons are meant to fight the scourge, aren’t they?"

He was a little disappointed at her reaction. But at the same time, Cressida was a noblewoman and had grown up in a society where one's order of birth could mean the difference between a life of luxury and scraping to survive. It made sense her first instinct was to be wary of anyone testing the boundaries.

Still… That didn’t mean she couldn’t change her mind.

"What about Common dragons without combat skills?" he pressed. "Like Tamya and Len. Their combined card power deals with sea salt, right?"

She shrugged. "Yes, but their deficiencies can be corrected with the new card once Len is old enough to solidify his core. Or Tamya might be able to take a card now. I heard Aethina mention they might be able to manipulate blood with the correct additional card."

Per hive policy, hatchling dragons were not allowed to take new cards. A magical beast’s body was built around its magical cores, which contained a single card. Dragons could have secondary and even tertiary decks, but those took time to properly develop.

Brixaby was somewhat of an exception with his natural power. But even he’d had a hard time when he’d tried to absorb Legendary cards fresh from the egg.

"Sure," Arthur said, starting to get annoyed now, "they can always buy a combat card, but you know how expensive those are. They'll go into debt just to be able to defend themselves in a scourge eruption. Then who knows how long it’ll take to pay it off, risking their lives the whole time-- with a brand new combat card that only one of them can absorb, by the way."

Cressida turned away for a moment, her arms crossed over her chest.

Arthur opened his mouth again, not wanting to let her stew, but then he noticed that she was looking at the cave and the dragons. After a moment, her shoulders slumped.

"I know you're right," she admitted. "But Arthur... It’s obvious you like what you see here, and that you want to bring it back to Wolf Moon Hive — if we're allowed to go home at all," she added. "But I can tell you right now that most people, especially the nobles, won't accept it. They don't like the idea of dragons being more than beasts used to fight the scourgelings. Even I didn't know how much dragons were like people until I met Joy... No," she caught herself with a shake of her head. "I didn't realize that dragons are people, and... I suppose I’m still getting used to that."

He remembered his father’s lecture about dragons when Arthur was small. He said they were like beasts. He’d had been wrong. Cressida had been wrong, too but she was trying to be better.

Forcing himself to set his annoyance aside, he shrugged. "Well, you know that I've never cared what nobles think."

She opened her mouth and closed it again. "I was about to say that you should, but you're a Legendary rider. Frankly, you have the luxury of not caring what they think."

If only that was true, he thought, remembering his uncle and cousin’s appeal to the king, and how close Arthur had come to execution. Because, yes, he was a Legendary rider, but the king was a Mythic.

He shook his head.

"Let's find our dragons.” He made a show of looking around. "I don't see that anything is on fire or anyone running or screaming, so I don't know which direction they went."

Cressida rolled her eyes, but the tension between them was gone and her expression was affectionate.

She held out her arm, as any well-bred noblewoman was taught to do. Arthur slipped his arm within hers, escorting her through the raucous, chaotic crafting cave.

They found Joy a few aisles in. Her bright pink scales stood out easily, even among other occasional pinks.

She was sitting in front of one of the smaller human booths and was chatting up the merchant. At first, Arthur thought the jars arranged on the merchant's booth were some kind of vegetable pickling method until he got closer and saw the dead bodies of insects and a few skeletal remains of mice and other rodents floating within.

Arthur stepped within hearing range just in time to hear Joy say in a slightly strained voice, "Oh, that is very… um, wow. And how long have you been doing… uh, this?"

“Since I was a child,” the man replied intensely. “I always felt that preserving tissues was my way of reaching immortality.”

Cressida stepped in. "Joy, what's going on? And where's Brixaby?"

"Oh, Cressida!" Joy turned to her rider in obvious relief. "I was just getting to know my new friend, Donnie here –"

"We're not friends," Donnie said.

And, just as abruptly, turned his back on them all to start rearranging already impeccably arranged jars.

Joy frowned and in a lower voice said, "I still need two more friends for my quest, and Donnie’s was the only booth without anybody in front of it. But I don't think that he's looking for friends. He asked if he could preserve one of my scales —"

"I hope you told him no," she said, alarmed.

"Yeah, I'm not shedding anyway." Joy looked at Arthur. And though dragons didn't exactly smile as humans did, the mischievousness was plain on her face. "Brixaby found his own friend. Over here, you have to see!"

She led her way down the aisle. Soon, Arthur stood in front of a booth that specialized in chainmail armor.

And behind that booth, parched on the side of a bucket filled with rusty, misshapen chain-link rivets was his dragon.

“Uh, Brix?” Arthur asked.

The little dragon looked up, and his blood-red eyes were bright. “Arthur! Observe my masterpiece!” He held up a daisy chain of rivets that started out lumpy on the far end but quickly grew more smooth and uniform. “My skills are quickly advancing. Soon, I will overtake Dimitri’s so-called mastery of this art.”

“So, you’re his linked partner then?” asked a man before Arthur could figure out a reply.

He looked up to see a rotund bearded man who looked every inch the stereotypical armorer, complete with large arms and a leather vest.

“Yes, I’m Arthur,” he said. “What’s going on?”

The man snorted deep in his nose and swallowed, making Cressida and Joy visibly grimace. “The kid here wants to know the trade. Said I’d agree to let him work and learn so he doesn’t make a fool of himself by linking chain.”

Arthur’s attention sharpened. “Brix, you want to apprentice to this man?”

“No,” Brixaby said, using a strange pinching tool to crimp two links together. It was overly large for his small form, and he had to use both claws and a foot to press it down. “I wish to stay until I can learn the method, and then make my own glorious armor.”

Dimitri rolled his eyes. “Keep dreaming. It takes a dedicated apprentice years to learn the basics of the craft. But… I could use the help.”

“Oh!” Joy said brightly. “It won’t take Brixaby years. He’s—”

Cressida put her hand in front of her dragon’s muzzle, stopping her from spilling secrets.

Arthur was torn. Brixaby was a mini gourmand with a taste for fine human food. Arthur had hoped his dragon would take more of an interest in cooking – skills, which would allow Arthur to show off. But Brixaby had always been more interested in eating than the process of making.

However, he wasn’t going to let that get in the way of an actual crafting interest. He’d never seen the little dragon concentrate on a single task for so long before.

“I think you’ll find Brixaby is a quick learner,” Arthur said, wondering how long it would be until the man learned he had a Legendary dragon behind his counter. “I assume you’ll pay him standard apprentice rates?”

Again, Dimitri did that deep, wet snort. This time he ended by spitting to the side.

Cressida turned away and gagged.

“Teaching him, ain’t I? That’s his pay.”

“Oh really.” Arthur’s voice was bland. “Is that what the crafting guild has to say about people you’re… apprenticing?”

Dimitri scowled. “One Common shard a week. That’s standard low-apprentice pay.”

That was less than Arthur had made as a cook in a back-end kitchen, but this wasn’t Wolf Moon hive. “One Common shard,” he agreed, “But if Brix tests up to guild craft standard of mid-apprentice or higher, you pay him accordingly.”

“Fine,” Dimitri said, clearly not thinking it would be a problem.

Brixaby looked up from his work. “Do I get to eat those shards?”

“Of course,” Arthur said. “You earned them.”

Letting out a satisfied hiss, the dragon crimped another rivet on the chain.

Abruptly, the cave rang with a deep bong-bong-bong of large gongs being struck.

Arthur, Cressida, Joy, and Brixaby all froze in place. Those sounded like scourgeling alarms that announced an eruption.

However, no one else seemed to be alarmed. Around them, conversation cut off and crafters started calmly putting away their wares.

“What’s going on?” Cressida asked.

“New around here, ain’t you? It's a card gifting ceremony,” Dimitri said. “We’ve all been expecting it since word of a successful raid came from up high. Kid,” he said to Brixaby. “Put that chain away. You’re going to want to see this.” He glanced at Arthur and Cressida. “All you snooty hive folk should see the way decent folk deal with cards.”