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between the gaps. Invictus knew that the dragon would weave a spell at the mouth of his cave that would repel the most powerful of prying eyes. But would he think to put a veil over the stone itself?
    “I’ll bet even you can’t do this, Grandmother,” Invictus had said to himself on the same morning Torg and Laylah ate breakfast at Boulogne’s . “One day, my scrying will surpass even yours.”
    When he first caught sight of the crimson tail, he let out a yelp. Then he examined the tail from the sides, above, and below. But when he tried to search farther down its length toward the body and head, he met with too much resistance. The innate emanations of the dragon’s magic prevented Invictus from seeing more. To make sure he wasn’t imagining things, he ordered his servants to bring him one of the five dracools that had remained in Avici after the departure of Mala’s army.
    A skinny but seemingly fearless female named Iriz entered his chambers in the upper reaches of Uccheda and eagerly peered into his basin of yellow glass.
    “Yes, my liege, that is most definitely the end of a great dragon’s tail,” the dracool rasped. “But there is no guarantee that you are viewing Bhayatupa. Of the remaining dragons in the world, several are crimson. If you could somehow show me his head, I could tell you for certain.”
    Invictus grunted. “If I could see the dragon’s head, then I wouldn’t need you.” Then, more calmly, he said, “I want to see for myself . . . in person. You will take me there.”
    Rather than protest, Iriz seemed pleased by the challenge. “Can you show me the mountaintops above where the dragon sleeps? If so, I can find the lair.”
    Invictus found this request to be an interesting challenge. He leaned over the basin and concentrated. The vision retreated through the stone and launched high into the air. At first, one peak was visible, then several—though all were shrouded in mist.
    “To anyone but a dragon or dracool, the peaks would look the same,” Iriz said boldly. “But I know this place.”
    “Take me there now.”
    “With pleasure, my liege.”
    Despite being able to fly almost as fast as a moutain eagle, it still took Iriz several hours to reach the peak of a remote mountain about forty leagues southwest of Avici. Despite the unseasonable heat, it remained chilly in the upper heights. It didn’t matter. Invictus was incapable of feeling cold.
    Iriz perched outside the entrance of a tunnel that entered the mountain on a steep decline. For the first time, the dracool appeared frightened.
    “Bhayatupa is no match for you, my liege, but if the two of you do battle, I will stand little chance of survival. If it pleases you, I will wait outside until you have concluded your business with Mahaasupanna (mightiest of all dragons).”
    “A wise choice,” Invictus said. “I recommend that you go far away until I’m finished.”
    “Yes, my liege.” Then Iriz sprang into the air and soared upward until she became just a speck in the firmament, even to Invictus’ eyes.
    The passageway was colder and damper than the outside air, its floor as slick as ice. Invictus removed his slippers and left them near the entrance. Then he focused his mind on the soles of his feet, encasing them with magical fire. Each time he took a step, the golden energy sizzled on the stone, incinerating the oily coating and improving his footing. He walked for what seemed like a long time. The tunnel narrowed to the point that he began to doubt a dragon of Bhayatupa’s girth could have managed to slither inside.
    After more than a thousand paces, the passageway finally opened into a large cavern. There were no torches, but the yellow glow emanating from Invictus’ flesh provided sufficient illumination. Within the cavern was a glittering treasure, and lying on the treasure was a great dragon in the throes of deep sleep.
    Instantly, Invictus recognized this wasn’t Bhayatupa. This dragon was a female barely