The Wealth of Kings by Sam Ferguson

stairway to hell circling the inner walls inside the volcano. A churning, smoking pool of orange lava sat at the bottom. The dragon knew that the gates to hell were near that pool of lava.
    He also knew that any being besides Icadion, who freely entered Gaia’s Tear, was considered a willing prisoner in Hammenfein, and both Khefir and Hatmul, the brother-gods who ruled Hammenfein, would come out with their armies to collect their victim.
    The dragon roared down in his mighty voice, “Khefir, Collector of the Damned, come without the gates of Hammenfein and grant me an audience.”
    Nothing happened for several minutes. The dragon circled the opening high above the volcano and waited. Then, he heard a great commotion, and deep within the volcano he saw an army march out from the gates. They took up a defensive position near the lava pool and stopped, turning their gazes upward and looking directly at him.
    The Father of the Ancients called out again. “Khefir, I come alone, and with no ill intent. I only wish to speak with you.”
    A line of blackness rent the sky over the volcano and a pair of skeleton hands reached through and then stretched the line into a hole. Hiasyntar’Kulai could see Khefir standing inside the portal. A dark hood covered most of Khefir’s bony face, but his ghastly, yellow eyes glowed brightly as they watched Hiasyntar’Kulai. As the dragon circled in the air to remain in flight above the volcano, so did the portal spin, allowing the dragon to see the god from any direction.
    “You cannot have your son,” Khefir said. “He made a deal with me, and then he broke it. I have proper claim on his soul.”
    “I have not come to ask for his soul, mighty Khefir,” Hiasyntar’Kulai said. “I have come only to ask for an audience with him. He has stolen something from me, and I need it back.”
    Khefir chuckled softly, his jaw clicking and clacking as it gyrated up and down. “Tu’luh the Red has betrayed many, it would seem.”
    Hiasyntar’Kulai said nothing as he soared around in a circle, watching the portal as it kept pace with him.
    Khefir nodded and pointed at the golden dragon. “It is not every day that an Ancient needs my help. Surely, this must be worth a favor from you in return if you would venture all this way.”
    Hiasyntar’Kulai had expected as much from the collector of evil souls. “What would you demand as payment to speak with my son?”
    Khefir pulled his hood back and revealed a yellowed skull. His glowing, yellow eyes were nothing more than a magical manifestation of where his physical orbs had once been. “Not just to speak with him,” the god corrected. “I will also demand he give you the answers you seek. As you have likely heard, I have power over the souls here; they must obey my command.”
    “Very well,” the golden dragon said. “What is your price?”
    Khefir glanced around and then came close to the portal. He spoke in a soft voice. “Not now, but later I may come to you with a proposal.”
    “You wish me to agree to a favor that you will only name after I have sworn? That is not acceptable.”
    Khefir flashed a bony arm across the portal. “No, my price is that when I have a proposal for you, you will afford me a fair audience and give my future proposal proper consideration. That is all.”
    “What if I hear it and decide it is a favor I want nothing to do with?” the dragon asked.
    “Then you shall be bound to hear any proposal I think of after the fact, until you hear one that you will agree to.”
    Hiasyntar’Kulai nodded as he flapped his wings and then flattened them out to soar. “Agreed.”
    Khefir nodded and left. The next image the gold dragon saw was that of his son.
    Tu’luh had a large, golden spike placed through his snout. The spike was attached to fiery reins made of golden chains which were held by a powerful orc spirit. Hiasyntar’Kulai could not help but feel shame and sorrow for his son’s current situation. Though the