Another stab of shock. Did he know my parents? I wanted to ask, but the Wyrm’s next sentence froze the question in my throat.

“I could kill the lot of you,” he went on, as both Garret and Riley tensed. “That is what Talon would expect, and none of you could stop me. I could destroy the soldier of St. George, crush the outlaw dragon and his rogue underground, and deliver Ms. Hill safely back to the organization. That would certainly please Talon, and the Elder Wyrm.”

He paused, watching our reactions, probably enjoying himself as we held our breaths and waited. If he decided to Shift and kill us, there was zilch we could do to stop him. I wasn’t exactly sure how big a legendary Wyrm could get, but I did know our pistol rounds would be as effective as spitballs against a dragon that size. Our only prayer would be to scatter and hope we could lose him in the labyrinth of aisles through the Vault. Maybe he was so big, he’d have a hard time navigating the maze, like a human trying to catch a mouse hiding in a woodpile. Though that wasn’t a very comforting thought.

“Yes,” the Archivist went on, nodding thoughtfully. “That would please the Elder Wyrm indeed.” He paused for one more heartbeat, then smiled. “Fortunately for you, I am not that interested in currying favor with our esteemed leader. Especially since it was the Elder Wyrm who trapped me here in the first place.”

I blinked. “You’re a prisoner?” I asked. That was hard to accept. Unless I was missing something, I didn’t see how an iron door and a handful of guards could stop an ancient Wyrm from walking out if he didn’t want to be here. “Why don’t you just leave?”

“There are two type of cages, hatchling,” the Archivist said, holding up a bony finger. “One is where you have no choice in the matter. The door is locked, and your freedom has been forcibly taken from you. But the other is where you become a willing captive, caging yourself, because the alternative is not acceptable.

“I am the second oldest dragon in Talon,” he went on, and I heard an awed exhale of breath from Riley. “Second only to the Elder Wyrm, technically. There is...one...other older than me, but he fled the organization many years ago and never surfaced again. Within the organization, at least, I am the Elder Wyrm’s strongest rival. So, I was placed here—” he indicated the walls around us “—to guard Talon’s greatest secrets. To possess a wealth of knowledge, yet never be able to use it. If I leave now, I’d declare myself rogue and be cast from the organization, and then the Elder Wyrm would be free to come after me full force.” The Archivist gave a rueful, bitter smile. “So you see, it is safer for me here. The Vault is both my kingdom and my prison. It is an honor and a punishment at the same time.”

I felt a small flicker of hope, and leaned forward, heart pounding. “Then...does that mean you’ll let us take the evidence against the Patriarch?”

“Don’t jump to conclusions, hatchling.” He sniffed, and his eyes glittered as he speared me with a glare. “Make no mistake, if you had come here for any other reason, we would not be having this conversation. The human would be a pile of ashes on the floor, the rogue would be scattered in little bloody strips through the aisles and you, my dear, would be on your way back to the organization.”

“But?” I prodded.

He sighed. “But...the Elder Wyrm decided to pursue this disgraceful partnership with St. George, and I find myself vastly annoyed.” His lip curled in distaste. “Bad enough that we must hide our true selves from the throngs of human vermin. Now the Elder Wyrm forges an alliance with the very ones who nearly hunted us to extinction? Pah.” He made a disgusted gesture. “We are dragons. We do not need the Order’s help, for anything. It is shameful that Talon has come to this.

“I cannot strike at the Elder Wyrm directly,” the Archivist went on. “Such action would be treasonous to Talon, and I would never do anything to jeopardize the safety of the organization. However...” He eyed us intently, lowering his voice. “If a single small box, one among millions, vanished from the shelves, well...” He smiled without humor. “No one but I would ever know it was missing.”

Riley drew in a slow breath. “You’ll let us go,” he confirmed, sounding like he could hardly believe it. “With the evidence that the Patriarch is working with Talon. You won’t try to stop us.”

“St. George is a black stain upon our organization,” the Archivist responded. “A diseased limb that must be cut off, not strengthened. If we are to rule this world, if dragons are to subjugate the humans as we were always meant to do, we cannot have the Order attached to us in any way.”