How to Lose Your Dragon (The Immortality Curse Book 1) by Peter Glenn (beach read TXT) 📕

hour as we practically crawled across the floor, heading toward the downed candlestick.

Then the noise came again, but this time from behind us. I spun around, hand on my katana hilt, ready to face the threat. Much to my delight and surprise, it was a small white house cat, playing with the decorations on a small end table.

I released a long, slow breath, letting the tension that had filled me since we’d come up here leave my body. I shook my head slightly. Spooked by a cat. I should have known better. If it was a guard, they wouldn’t have given away their position like that.

Rick was still tense, so I grabbed his arm and pointed at the cat. He let out a slight laugh at the tiny animal as the tension eased. I shushed him a second later, and he ducked his head and mouthed the word “sorry.”

I was glad there wasn’t anyone up here after us, I really was, but we still had to be quiet. The news had said the collector was on holiday, but there could still be guards or servants up here. We had to be careful.

I spared the cat one more quick glance, then got to business. There were seven doors lining the hallway. The one right in front of the stairs was probably the collector’s bedroom, but there was no way to be certain.

Better check them all, just to be safe.

My hand reached out to touch the ornate handle on the door. The door itself was made of some sort of cherry wood, or at least stained to look like it, and the handle was a delicate brass. I couldn’t detect any traps on it, but I used my little spray anyway just to be safe.

Sure enough, the coast was clear. I pressed down on the button on the handle and pressed in as gently as I could to keep from disturbing anyone that might be in there. Once the door was open a couple inches, I peeked my head into the crack to get a better look within.

A large, four poster bed filled the main area of the room. A massive window stood in the back that allowed the bed to be bathed in the moonlight. Fresh silken sheets lined the bed, nicely pressed and cornered. It did not appear to be in use.

I let out another sigh of relief and opened the door the rest of the way. I could have sworn I heard Rick whistle softly behind me, but it was gone a second later, so I dismissed it.

The rest of the bedroom was pretty much exactly what you’d expect. There was a closet full of dark suits in one wall of the room, and a master bathroom in the other. The golden showerhead could probably pay my rent for a few months, but other than that, there was nothing of note in the room.

We moved on to the next room, gently closing the door behind us. The next two rooms were similar, if less eccentric, and really held nothing of note.

But when I opened the door to the last room on the left-hand side of the balcony, I heard Rick whistle for real. I couldn’t blame the guy. We’d found it. This was where all the exhibits were stored. The treasure trove.

Even from the crack in the door, I could tell the room was massive. Easily twice the size of that giant bedroom we’d been in moments earlier. And it was filled to the brim with shelves and display cases of all kinds.

Rick pushed against me, eager to get into the room, so I entered the rest of the way and let him past me, then gently shut the door behind us.

True, that could end up being a mistake, as it would make it harder to get out, but I had to weigh that against the possibility of being discovered. We hadn’t encountered a single soul yet. I couldn’t count on that luck holding much longer. Even if there were no guards, there was a high chance of at least one servant not being able to sleep wandering around downstairs. If their eyes trailed upward, I didn’t want them to see anything out of the ordinary.

“All right, Rick,” I said in a voice barely over a whisper. “This is where you come in. Find Boudicca’s clothing. The circlet would be ideal if it’s here, but anything will work, okay?”

“You got it,” Rick said in a monotonous tone. His eyes had grown to the size of saucers as he took in the room in all its glory.

Put simply, it was an ancient culture specialist’s playground. There were artifacts of all types littered around the place. Over on the far wall, there was a large collection of bladed weapons from various times in history. One of them even looked kind of like Grax’thor, but not quite as detailed.

Next to the weapon cache stood several suits of armor that looked like they were ripped straight out of a history book. There was traditional medieval plate mail and a chain hauberk, but also a rather well put together set of traditional Asian cloth armor, and what I was pretty sure was a samurai set next to it. There was even a set of Viking furs and a helmet - not the pointy kind, the Vikings didn’t actually use those - hanging amongst the sets.

And that was just the beginning. Further down in the room were all sorts of other artifacts; crowns, scepters, statues of people I probably should have recognized, you name it.

The two of us waded through the room. Every so often, Rick would stop for a second to admire something and point it out to me, but none of them were what we were looking for. None of them were Boudicca’s crown.

It all seemed hopeless until we came across a row of rather heavy-looking boxes at the very back of the room. The boxes were coated in dust and grime and