Dragonstone wasn’t far from King’s Landing.
The ship crossed Blackwater Bay, passing only one small island along the way, and reached Dragonstone that same afternoon.
The castle here was older than the Red Keep, but it looked more solemn and far more formidable.
After Cole wheeled Baelon to his rooms, Baelon didn’t leave again.
Only after he had hurried Rhaenyra off the island the next day did he finally begin his real work.
He gave Cole full authority over all affairs on Dragonstone, then quietly replaced him with Auris, who had been hidden among the servants the entire time.
Cole showed no dissatisfaction or suspicion.
He accepted his new role with genuine joy.
He didn’t even ask a single question about the cloaked man who had taken his place.
He simply assumed Baelon had planned everything in advance.
Baelon’s intelligence and careful planning had long since earned Cole’s complete loyalty.
The prince had never been wrong before.
Inside Baelon’s chambers, Auris finally closed the door and pulled off the heavy cloak with relief.
“Your Grace, you really are cautious. For something this important, you didn’t tell a single soul.”
“I’m starting to wonder if there’s anyone in this world you truly trust.”
Baelon gave him a meaningful look.
“Before I met you, there were. Now there aren’t.”
“Tell me how to cast Devour Source. What preparations are still needed?”
“Besides fresh blood from your dragon, nothing else is required.”
Baelon asked the question he had been turning over for days.
“Auris, is it possible to use a wild dragon instead of one from our family?”
“There are at least two adult wild dragons on Dragonstone — The Glutton and Sheepstealer.”
Auris smiled.
“Of course, Your Grace. As long as you can safely approach and touch them, it’s entirely up to you.”
“Because for Devour Source to work, you must coat the target dragon’s body with your own dragon’s fresh blood and make sure it isn’t rubbed off.”
Baelon immediately abandoned the idea of using wild dragons and asked instead, “There is one male and one female adult dragon here. Which one do you recommend?”
“Since we have to sacrifice one dragon’s life anyway, we should choose the larger one. That way your gains will be greater.”
Baelon had already made his decision.
“Tomorrow night, then. The sooner the better. I’ll go to the dragonpit today to get familiar with the layout.”
Auris inclined his head.
“A wise choice, Your Grace. I’ll push you there myself.”
Along the way, every person they passed bowed respectfully to Baelon.
On this island, he was now the one truly in charge.
Baelon returned each bow with a smile, then lowered his voice without turning around.
“Auris, why do you believe I’ll actually give you a dragon? Aren’t you afraid I’ll go back on my word?”
Auris laughed with confidence.
“Your Grace, once you witness the power of blood magic and see the results on your dragon, you won’t have any doubts left.”
“Believe me, this won’t be the last time we work together. In the future you’ll seek me out on your own.”
“You’re a wise prince. One day you’ll rule all of Westeros. My blood magic can help you grow stronger than anyone else. Why would you kill the goose that lays the golden eggs?”
Baelon glanced back at him and quietly slipped the small vial he had been holding back into his sleeve.
“If you put it that way, I feel much better. I was actually worried you might try something, so I waited until we were around other people to ask… and I even prepared a little gift for you.”
Auris had no idea what Baelon was thinking.
He was still lost in his fantasy of establishing a long-term partnership with House Targaryen, obtaining a dragon, and restoring his family’s glory.
At the entrance to the dragonpit, the dragonkeepers bowed respectfully to Baelon, long staffs in hand.
“Your Grace, Ignir is doing well inside. He just ate an entire sheep. You don’t need to worry.”
Baelon nodded.
“Thank you for your hard work. Ignir has never been away from me before. Please take extra care of him.”
“It is our duty, Your Grace.”
Baelon looked at the heavy doors leading to the dragonmounting platform, then raised his eyes to the high ledge above.
“I didn’t come to see Ignir this time. I want to see the largest dragon currently in House Targaryen’s possession — my great-grandfather’s cradle dragon, the Bronze Fury… Vermithor.”
The dragonkeeper captain exchanged a glance with his men.
“Your Grace, Vermithor has a violent temper. Approaching him rashly could be dangerous.”
Baelon tilted his head.
“Are you questioning my blood?”
The captain spoke humbly, “We would never dare, Your Grace.”
“Stand up. I’m not blaming you. I only want to look from the high platform. I won’t go any closer.”
The captain rose and studied the young prince who had recently burned more than twenty people alive with dragonfire.
He gestured toward the passage on the side.
“This way, Your Grace.”
From the high platform, Baelon stared intently into the darkness below.
At the dragonkeepers’ call, movement stirred in the abyss-like depths of the pit.
A massive dragon head slowly emerged into view.
Vermithor lifted his head and unleashed a tremendous jet of flame that lit up the entire cavern.
For a brief moment Baelon saw the full size of the great bronze dragon.
Auris stared at the magnificent beast in open awe.
“What a beautiful creature…”
Baelon turned and saw the naked hunger and greed in Auris’s eyes.
“Auris, once I can stand again, you will have another dragon of your own.”
“Now we should head back. There are still many preparations to make for the ritual, aren’t there?”
Auris snapped out of his daze and gripped the handles of the wheelchair.
“Your Grace, I swear I will help you stand.”
“I’m looking forward to it. As soon as you complete the first part of the plan, I’ll teach you the proper method of claiming a dragon.”
Auris pushed Baelon back to his rooms with eager energy and immediately began preparing.
He spread a large sheet of sheepskin across the floor and used bright red pigment to draw a complex pattern on it.
Then he took the bottle containing Ignir’s fresh blood, sprinkled an unknown powder into it, and placed the bottle in the center of the pattern.
Closing his eyes, he began to chant.
As the ritual continued, the blood inside the bottle started to boil violently, as if something alive was thrashing within it.
Baelon watched the strange, almost sacred ceremony with narrowed eyes, pushing down the unease rising in his chest.
“This man traveled all the way to Westeros. He wouldn’t have come just to harm me and Ignir.”
“His words are probably true. He really does see dragons as nothing more than tools, and the blood magic itself was confirmed in the family archives.”
“Since I’ve already made my choice, I have to see it through. This is just a gamble.”