The next morning, Jack woke to the sound of banging on the door. He heaved himself up from the bed and went to unlock it. Simon burst in.

"What's the ruckus?" Jack grumbled from being rudely awakened.

"I left the key in here as always and then you locked up nicely, unlike you."

"Oh?" Jack scratched his head. "That's a first," he said with a yawn.

"Late night?"

Jack grunted and hobbled back up the stairs.

"Coffee?" Simon called.

"Wonderful."

Jack was still half asleep as he sipped the freshly brewed coffee. He had not been that active at night in a while. His body ached all over. Digging a hole and packing it tight to make it look like it hadn't been tampered with took a lot of effort. His still groggy mind admired moles and dogs and squirrels who all dug holes most of their lives. Then he thought about hibernating frogs.

"Do frogs dig holes?"

Simon looked at him over his glasses. "Pardon?"

"Frogs." Jack yawned.

Simon blinked. "What about?"

"Do they dig holes?"

"I," Simon paused, scratching his head, "I'll have to look into that."

Jack rubbed his eyes and shook his head. "No, it's not important." He suddenly remembered the feeling of crunching credentials under his shoe. It made him grimace. He downed the coffee and stood.

"Going to take a bath." He turned to leave.

"Jack, you okay?" Simon called.

Jack rubbed his eye of sleep. "Why you say that?"

"You seem a bit, mm, off today. Hope you haven't got what Mister Baldwin has." Simon's wrinkles deepened. It was during stare-offs like this that Jack remembered how old Simon was. He was well into his sixties.

"No, on the contrary, I feel ready for tonight." Jack smiled. Simon's pursed lips meant he wasn't convinced. He shook his head.

"Well, if you want to talk about anything, you know that you can trust me."

Jack chuckled. "I know, old friend." But he decided to wait until after this evening to talk about what he did with Rocky Howards. He didn't want today to be ruined. What happened yesterday was not the concern of today and not something that would or should occupy his mind. It was a bit unclear if Finch-James heard anything that was said in the warehouse. How long was he in the office? What did he see or hear? 

The only way to tell that was if Jack brought it up with him, and that was not a good move. Even if he did use his cursed gift, Finch-James would know that Jack was thinking about it and possibly worried about it.

Don't give the enemy a reason to attack. Jack nodded to himself in the mirror as he waited for the bath to fill.

* * *

Morning came and went. Lunch came and went. It was teatime already as the clock struck three. That was when Jack remembered Eli. That strange girl that believed she was a Dragon Seeker was going to come and he was to let her in free of charge so that she could prove to him that dragons were real.

What a stupid bargain. Jack leaned back in his chair. What was I thinking?

His hands dropped to his jacket pockets. The taser gun flipped knife was gone. He bolted upright.

What did I do with that thing? Jack recalled the night before. He had laid it down to show Rocky he was going weaponless and vulnerable to the warehouse. It had been on the floor. Jack knew the floor was cleaned up. He even cleaned it himself so Simon wouldn't ask any questions. But he hadn't seen it then.

With a thumping heart, he realized that Finch-James most likely took it.

"Dungs and apples," he swore. Finch-James might even bring it to The Kaleidoscope. If he showed it to Simon, Simon would recognize it as Jack's, but then that would mean Finch-James would have to admit where he was last night. Simon knew Jack never parted with the taser gun knife. It was always on his person and most often in his jacket pocket.

"Officer Rupert Hamstern," Jack swore his name like a curse, "dungs and apples." If Finch-James recognized the policeman, he might show the taser gun knife to him. Rupert would most likely recognize it. It was the knife that supposedly killed the King's son and what police recovered from the scene, until, of course, they lost it. Anyone with the knife would be suspect and police would probably be right about them.

Still, Finch-James would have to say where he found it. If he couldn't give a good enough explanation with good enough proof, Rupert might suspect Finch-James.

All boils down to how stupid that boy is. Jack rubbed his chin. All this thinking calls for cake. He got up and left the office, strolling down the street a little farther to go to Delightfully, a café that had cake and coffee, but specifically exquisite raspberry and vanilla cake which could be ordered as a set with a cup of cappuccino. It was the perfect combination for him.

He checked his watch. It was a little after three. He would have to be at The Kaleidoscope by five-thirty. There was time enough. On the way was a little bookstore and there was one book he had been meaning to get. 'Tales of Dragon's Wood' written by multiple authors. It was for research, not for fun. The more Jack spent time with that green gem and the more it was certain it talked to him and that there was a chance that it was a dragon's soul. 

Today, he wore the necklace out, on his neck, but hidden under his shirt. He didn't even rub it with his thumb, but it spoke to him today.

As I told you this morning, I am trapped in this stone. If you release me, I can relieve you of your cursed gift. The woman's voice said. We have that power.

You're talking to me more than before. Jack thought as he searched for the book.

Because you are listening to me more. It goes both ways, Jack.

You said you would tell me your name, he thought. Then he found the book.

Yes, it will be in there. Better if you find out yourself. There was amusement in that thought voice. On one hand, he saw himself objectively, talking to a dragon soul trapped in a gem and how strange and silly that was. On the other hand, this thinking talking was becoming rather the norm for him and even a little bit of a relief that he wasn't always alone with his thoughts.

Serena, the woman's voice said.

That's your name?

There was no response. Jack sighed. For a moment there, he thought he was going to get to have full afternoon conversation with a soul. Although whether or not it was really a dragon was up for debate in his mind. The entire time he read the book and the entire rest period he spent until five in the café and in the office, the gem was silent. It didn't even talk when he directed thoughts to 'Serena' while rubbing the gem.

Fickle, as all women are known to be, he thought with a smirk. It was almost time to ready for tonight anyway. Jack opened the closet in his room and took out the suits tailored for today. Dark blue suit with silver thread woven in just like the decorations at the gallery. He straightened his tie in the mirror and put on his feathered top hat with the golden band. A matching gold handkerchief tucked in his suit pocket.

Regarding himself in the mirror, he admired how the gold complimented his golden hair. It was a brighter gold than his sister's. He rolled up his sleeve and the only tattoo he had on his wrist became visible. It was a small tattoo reminding him of his past.

Who I was and who I am. Two different people. Jack covered his wrist. He wanted to put the past behind him and relish in success. Success with riches was what he was born into, but which was stolen from him. He deserved to have it no matter what life path he had to take to get here. One way or another, Jack was going to feel like a king.

And only in my own airship, flying above Endil, will I ever truly feel like a king. Resentment for the thief that took his life from him boiled in his chest. Jack clenched his fists tight, stiffly seething. Even though his true enemy lay dead in a royal grave, he still couldn't get over the anger towards that boy.

A migraine pierced his head then, and he knotted his brows. After a few moments, it receded.

Dungs and apples. He slipped on the necklace to promote the dragon's breath jewel. Then he took a deep breath. He was Jack Ogswold, owner of The Kaleidoscope, and the talk of Endil. That was who he was today, tomorrow, and many years in the future. No one doubted his friendship, his loyalty, and they all adored his charisma—except maybe for a few like Julie who feared it now. Tonight, he would put on a show and all his guests and artists were going to love it.

And, so will I. Let it begin. He lowered his head and glanced up with a smirk, just like the photograph in all the posters.