Free The Dragon's Appraiser: Part One by Viola Rivard Page B

somewhere before. It was a headband that somehow managed to look both simplistic and gaudy. It was so unfortunate-looking that to the untrained eye, it may have appeared to be little more than an elderly noblewoman’s costume jewelry.
    Madja knew better.
    The reed design that wrapped around the band was indicative of ancient Basheti craftsmanship. The once-great nation had built most of its wealth on the unassuming plant, which had many uses, ranging from food, textiles, and most notably—paper.
    But the small pearls that were interspersed among the reeds were a trademark of ancient Mandurian jewelry. Because the Basheti Empire had fallen within a century of the rise of the Mandurian Republic, it was very easy to pinpoint the timeframe in which the headband was crafted.
    However, it wasn’t the artwork that gave away its identity. It was the Lathian word that had been painstakingly carved into the inside of the band:
    Cromisttel —Unbroken.
    With muted reverence, she placed it onto her head. No celestial winds blew and no trumpets sounded, but Madja didn’t need any fanfare to recognize the significance of the moment. She was wearing the lost crown of Empress Arda. It really was as heavy as Arda had claimed.
    Madja wrapped her hands around her torso as she stood, fending off a chill. She could see now that there were countless objects littered on and within the piles of coins. In the pile she’d fallen down were sword hilts, jeweled rings, embroidered silks, and even what looked to be a golden flask—and that was just on the surface of a single gold pile, out of what appeared to be hundreds of piles. If she had found one of history’s most celebrated artifacts within the very first pile, how many more ancient treasures awaited her?
    She had hardly made it through one coin pile when afternoon finally gave way to evening. Moonlight afforded very little light so deep within the cavern and Madja had to rely on the fickle lamp for vision.
    The lamp wouldn’t last the night, and she knew that if she wanted to make it out of the mountain before the oil ran out, she would have to leave soon. Part of her wanted to wait out the night and keep exploring in the morning, but hunger dashed that idea. While it had an abundance of treasure, the cavern lacked the materials to maintain a proper fire, so cooking up one of the chickens was also not an option.
    Madja gathered up her favorite findings in a makeshift bag and flung it over her shoulder. Getting back up to the cliff took at least twenty minutes and she nearly lost her lamp twice in the process. When she reached the mouth of the passageway, her body slumped in relief and—if she were being honest with herself—disappointment.
    She looked out over the vast expanse of gold and treasures, knowing it wasn’t hers but also feeling somewhat entitled to it. Her thoughts quickly turned calculating. The journey out of the mountain took approximately two hours. She could leave, forage for food and firewood in the forest, and return to build a camp for herself within the lair. Humans would continue to come and go, leaving their meager offerings inside the tunnels while she lived out her life within the golden cavern, appraising and cataloguing innumerous wonders.
    Madja hated that she would even entertain such selfish thoughts, but as she turned to leave the cavern behind, her future remained uncertain. Once she made it out of the mountain, would she keep going and return to the city, or would she turn back and forsake her people, just like they had forsaken her?
    Her ethical dilemma was short-lived. As she faltered at the mouth of the passageway, something hard coiled around her waist. Madja screamed as she was lifted airborne, her bag and the lamp clattering to the ground—a ground that quickly drew farther and farther away.
    Everything happened in the span of a few seconds, yet somehow, Madja fully expected what she saw next. As she came to a stop, suspended in mid-air, something