'Why would it want me to take it?' Max wondered. 'Is this really the way forward… or a trap?'
His hand twitched.
Blob's warning echoed again.
"Do not take the sword out."
Max clenched his jaw, eyes darting between the sword, the dragon, and the swirling storm of infernal energy within the forcefield.
Something was buried here.
And it was still alive.
But he could feel nothing aside from the infernal energy around the sword.
Max's eyes narrowed as he looked at the little dragon.
It hovered near the sword again, wings buzzing faintly, never touching the blade but never leaving its side either. Every few seconds, it would glance back at Max—those bright, intelligent eyes filled with urgency.
It wasn't just circling the sword anymore.
It was beckoning him.
Inviting him to take it.
To draw it.
'It wants me to pull the sword out… but why?' Max's jaw tightened, a shadow falling across his face. The unease he'd been trying to ignore finally settled in his gut like a cold stone.
