Morning arrived with a ruthless brightness, the sun spilling through the broken timbers of the shipwreck.

  I awoke with a moment of disorientation before the previous day’s events returned to my memory. The earthquake. The portal. The dragon.

  And Petya.

  She was already awake, sitting cross-legged near the cabin entrance, staring out at the sea. When she noticed me stirring, there was no preamble.

  “We should leave soon. If there’s really a dragon, it can’t be safe here.”

  So, she was worried about the dragon, at least. Progress.

  I rubbed sleep from my eyes. “The water bottle?”

  She handed it to me. There was about a third left. The greedy woman had guzzled more than her share.

  I kept my face neutral as I drank an extra mouthful from yesterday, stopping just before she could fully protest.

  “We’ll find more today,” I said. “Perhaps I should hold onto this. Water in a situation like this is something that needs to be strictly monitored.”

  It had been a lapse in my judgment. I should have taken it yesterday, and now we both might pay the price.

  Petya pouted a bit, her eyes narrowing. “I…need a moment alone,” she said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  I watched her go, likely for normal human functions. Which presented a unique opportunity.

  I checked out the door to make sure she was really gone before I rifled through her purse’s contents. I needed to assess anything useful, and given the water, it was important to know if she was hiding other important resources from me.

  To my disappointment, there wasn’t much: a compact makeup mirror, a half-empty pack of tissues, her employee ID card, a small leather-bound notebook with sales figures, three pens, a flip phone with a dead battery, her house keys, a small photo of her three children tucked inside her wallet, and some Bulgarian paper notes.

  I had been hoping for cigarettes or a lighter, but neither was in evidence. I had left mine in my desk drawer, unfortunately.

  I was tempted to go through her sales figures; on the surface, the action might seem superfluous. But if she were a good saleswoman, it gave me a sense of just what I was dealing with. Any good salesperson knew you weren’t selling the item, but an image.

  If her numbers were better than mine, well, I’d have to reset my mental calculus.

  In the end, I decided the risk wasn’t worth it.

  I left everything just as I’d found it. I also scrounged a jagged piece of wood that might serve as a makeshift weapon if needed, sturdy enough to discourage would-be attackers. It wasn’t much, but better than nothing.

  She returned in time to find me observing the makeshift weapon. Before she could ask anything, I said, “Let’s explore the wreck more, like we talked about. I would hate to miss out on something potentially useful.”

  Besides, if we found something here, she would come to rely on my judgment more.

  Petya shrugged. “It’s worth a shot. But we shouldn’t spend too much time.”

  We split up to cover more ground, agreeing to meet back at the main deck in twenty minutes.

  I headed toward the stern, crouching to navigate the tilted corridors. The ship was larger than it had appeared from outside, with narrow passages branching off into small cabins and storage compartments.

  Most rooms showed signs of previous looting—drawers pulled out, crates smashed open, scattered debris. In what must have been the galley, copper pots hung at odd angles from hooks, while broken ceramic plates littered the floor.

  The pots might be valuable, so I grabbed two that were still in decent shape. The food stores were long gone, with only the acrid smell of rot lingering in empty barrels.

  “Find anything?” Petya called from somewhere above.

  “A couple of pots,” I shouted back, moving deeper into the ship’s bowels. “You?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Keep looking.”

  The lowest deck was partially flooded, seawater sloshing between the floor beams. As I turned to head back up, my foot caught on something, nearly sending me sprawling. Looking down, I noticed an irregularity in the flooring—a section that didn’t quite match the rest.

  Curious, I knelt and ran my fingers along the edges, finding a small notch. With some effort, I pried up a loose plank, revealing a hollow space beneath. My heart quickened with anticipation.

  “Petya!” I called. “I think I found something!”

  Within moments, she appeared at the top of the ladder, black hair falling across her face. “What is it?”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Together, we removed several more planks, uncovering a small iron-bound chest cleverly hidden in a compartment built between the structural beams of the hull—invisible unless you knew exactly where to look or, in my case, stumbled upon it by chance.

  “Someone wanted to keep this hidden,” Petya murmured, running her hand over the rusted lock.

  “Let’s get it open.”

  It took several minutes of prying with my makeshift weapon before the aged lock finally gave way with a crack. We exchanged a glance before Petya slowly lifted the lid.

  Inside, nestled in waterproof oilcloth, lay two items: a dagger in a leather sheath and a small velvet pouch.

  I drew the dagger and was surprised to see that the blade was slightly curved and dark as midnight. Its hilt was silver, with a large ruby, about the size of an acorn, embedded in its pommel. The weight felt perfect in my hand, as if it had been crafted just for me. Something about it called to me, whispering promises of power.

  “Quite the find,” Petya said, her eyes wide. “If we could bring that dagger back to our world… well, the size of that ruby alone is worth a small fortune.”

  I nodded in agreement, though privately I was more intrigued by the blade itself than its monetary value. The way the light darkened around the blade suggested something magical.

  I carefully opened the pouch, tipping its contents into my palm: seven perfectly round gems, each about the size of a marble, each shining with a pale sapphire light.

  “Are those diamonds?” Petya asked, leaning closer.

  “I don’t think so.” I held one up to the light streaming through the broken hull. “They look like something else entirely. Definitely magical based on that light.”

  There was nothing else, but these items were clearly valuable. Even if they couldn’t be taken back to our own world, they could possibly be sold here.

  Assuming we could find someone to sell them to.

  “We should move,” I said, carefully wrapping everything and stowing it in my pockets. The dagger itself was too large, but thankfully, it was easy to affix to my belt.

  Petya’s eyes widened at that. I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring look. “Just in case.”

  “Good idea,” she admitted. “But that ruby might attract attention.”

  I flipped the blade, so the jewel pointed inward. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do for now. I didn’t intend to part with this weapon anytime soon, and it was far better than the plank, which I tossed aside.

  I shouldered her purse. “To help conserve your strength. We might have to travel far today.”

  She nodded, not bothering to argue, where before she might have. How a nice, scary dagger changed the equation, even if I would never dare use it against her. The implicit power shift was subtle but unmistakable.

  I was her protector now. Her guide.

  Perhaps, even, her noble knight.

  I smiled inwardly at the thought. Too far, Drago. Even for you.

  We headed along the shoreline in the direction we had yet to explore. Assuming the sun rose in the east here, which was barely peeking above the cliffs, then this direction would be south.

  From time to time, I cast a glance in Petya’s direction, observing her with careful attention. Despite our dire circumstances, she carried herself with a quiet determination that I hadn’t noticed in the office.

  In our old world, we had barely exchanged ten words. Now, she was the only familiar thing in this alien place. Having someone like Petya—intelligent, resourceful, and yes, presentable—as an ally would certainly be advantageous.

  Two minds were better than one, and if others we encountered assumed a deeper connection between us, what of it? To be seen in the company of a woman like her would reflect well on me.

  The coast stretched out before us, seemingly endless. To our right, crystal-blue waters lapped gently at the shore. To our left, scrubby vegetation gave way to cliffs and rolling hills that eventually rose into distant mountains. The landscape was both beautiful and alien, familiar enough to remind us of Earth yet different in countless subtle ways.

  We came across another one of those blue crabs, which quickly buried itself at our approach.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Petya said, breaking the silence. “If this is like one of those games you were talking about, and the language is Calidonian, maybe this place is called something like ‘Calidon.’ What do you think?”

  “Sounds reasonable,” I said. “Maybe it’s a country, or a kingdom, or something like that?”

  Petya made a noncommittal sound. “Though that doesn’t explain how we understand it without learning it. I keep thinking of that strange Voice. Maybe it knows a way back to our world?”

  “Maybe,” I said, not wanting to give her false hope. Privately, I was beginning to wonder if returning should be our only goal. A world with magic, with powers waiting to be unlocked—it offered possibilities that our mundane existence in Bulgaria never could.

  But I kept these thoughts to myself. Petya was clearly fixated on returning to her children, and I needed her cooperation for now.

  We fell silent again. The walking was hard in our inappropriate footwear—my dress shoes and Petya’s sensible but office-oriented flats. We would both have blisters before long. Getting new footwear should be one of our primary goals.

  The sun climbed higher, beating down on us mercilessly. Petya’s pace had slowed, her breathing labored. When we paused to share a careful sip of water, I noticed the strain in her features.

  “Are you all right?” I asked.

  She nodded curtly. “Fine. We need to keep moving.”

  But it was clear she was struggling. I wondered if she had had anything to eat since arriving. I certainly hadn’t, and hunger gnawed at my stomach.

  If we didn’t find something, and soon…well, we’d be forced to take more drastic measures.

  “Let’s keep moving,” I said. “It’s important.”

  We continued on, the coastline seeming to mock us with its sameness. Sand, rock, scrub vegetation, repeat. No sign of habitation, no hint of fresh water.

  Just the endless rhythm of waves against the shore.

  “We’re too far out,” Petya finally said, her voice strained. “No one lives here. We could walk for days and find nothing.”

  I was about to respond when something caught my eye. I stopped, squinting against the glare of the afternoon sun.

  “There,” I said, pointing to a distant protrusion of land. “Do you see it?”

  Petya followed my gaze. “What am I looking at?”

  “On that headland. I think it’s…smoke?”

  We both stared, and sure enough, a thin wisp of smoke rose from what appeared to be a small cove at the base of a rocky promontory.

  “People,” Petya breathed, new energy entering her voice.

  Without discussion, we quickened our pace, ignoring our fatigue and discomfort. The promontory was farther than it had appeared, and the sun was beginning its descent when we finally rounded the curve of the shoreline, and the cove came into view.

  A small fishing boat was drawn up on the pebbly beach. Two men worked nearby, one mending nets while the other tended to a small cookfire—the source of the smoke we had seen.

  We stopped.

  “They look human,” Petya whispered.

  Both had deeply tanned, leathery skin from years under the sun. Their clothing was simple—loose trousers tied at the ankles, sleeveless tunics, and cloth wrappings around their forearms. Both wore wide-brimmed hats woven from some kind of reed.

  So, this wasn’t some alien planet. Despite dragons, magic stones, and a disembodied Voice, there was some grounding in reality here. A good thing to know.

  Petya looked unsure.

  “We need help,” I said, straightening my shoulders. “Let’s go.”

  She nodded. “Yes. Of course.”

  We headed toward the cove and the fishermen.