Cosmo slumped back and kicked the chest with his foot. It skidded along the ground, leaving deep trenches in the dirt.

There were so many rumours surrounding the Dragon Chest, and with such a name, the drunken minds at the local tavern had run wild with stories of gold, jewels, or perhaps the generously rich coffers of a long forgotten damsalled princess.

But what Cosmo didn't expect to find was a lousy, torn scroll.

They had found the chest deep in the vaults below the palace. Unremarkable in design, Cosmo had first mistaken it for an old fisherman's crate. But after he had thrown it to the floor (and smelt nothing fishy), Thea had pointed out the silver work, the slats stamped with a long, curled dragon flying over the sea.

Cosmo had thought it tacky.

He kicked the chest again, and a shard of wood splinted from the domed lid.

"Oi, don't do that!" Thea declared, and the hollow chamber agreed, repeating her words in a distorted echo of her voice.

Water dripped from deeper within the vault, and even though he tried not to, Cosmo couldn't help but breathe in the stale stench of mildew and rust.

Some hundred years, the palace above had abandoned the contents of the vaul, leaving once-precious artefacts to rot and decay, hidden away in the dark.

If only he had been alive those years ago, Cosmo thought, he would have stolen it all and sold it for a fortune.

He could have been a king, all of his own.

Thea grunted and pushed up from her spot by a weathered stone gargoyle. She stomped over to the chest. A veil of shadows draped over her face. The dark sunk into the sharp lines of her cheekbones and deepened the bags under her eyes, and for a moment, Cosmo saw how the rest of the world saw her—as the personification of fear itself... A Dark Witch.

Cosmo shivered under his jacket.

Quickly, he blew a raspberry to settle his nerves. "Try and stop me."

Ignoring him, Thea rightened the chest and plucked out the scroll from inside. Yellow light glimmered from their discarded torch on the ground, and the flame flashed in the lenses of her glasses. "Did you even think to check what was on the scroll?”

"Seeing as scrolls ain't local currency—no!" Cosmo flopped back, and his head fell into a pillow of dirt.

An eternity appeared in the vast vault ceiling. It seemed to go on forever.

Six wide walkways extended equally from the curved walls, reaching inwards like the spokes of a wagon wheel to a central, circular point in the middle.

Even in the low light, Cosmo could see several floors. Each layer rose higher and higher, but with every new stone wheel, the condition of the bridges’ deteriorated, crumbling away until Cosmo lost sight of everything at all.

Cosmo sighed. "You can't bloody buy beer with kindling,” he muttered and closed his eyes.

For weeks, he had dreamt of nothing but the prize waiting within the dragon's chest. Gold enough to pay off his debt, a gateway out from under the queen's thumb. But, as with most dragons, its glistening hoard didn't exist, and Cosmo was once again left withering around in the dirt.

"Oi, Mr Mopey. Would a map be of interest?"

His ears piqued. "Pirate?”

"Well, there's no big X-marks-the-spot, but a little chest is drawn in the corner, and it is gold. But whatever,” Thea sighed dramatically, and Cosmo heard her boots crunching on the ground. “As you said, this is just kindling."

“Wait!” Scrambling to his feet, Cosmo leaned over Thea's shoulder. Snatching the map, a sprinkling of something came away in his hands, scattering over his skin like dandruff. “What‘s this?” He grimaced, rubbing the grey powder between his fingers. He sniffed it. It tickled, smelling something acidic and citrus. He sneezed. “Fruity dust?”

“Clay, perhaps.” Thea yanked the scroll back. “Oi, don’t lick it!”

Cosmo put his arm down, returned his tongue to the inside of his mouth and wiped his dusty hand on his trousers. “Spoilsport.”

As thick as wafer biscuits, the parchment ran no bigger than Thea's forearm.

Golden lines coursed across the black page, intersecting like leylines. Pale blue filled the blank edges of the map, and where the green areas were, were crudely drawn regions of trees and mountains, with the occasional scratch of a town or village.

Cosmo squinted and ran his tongue over the ring in his lip. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't recognise any of the depicted landmarks.

This place didn't exist.

“It’s a duff,” he said, “it has to be. This crusty map leads to nowhere. Let's go.” Cosmo tugged Thea's sleeve, but she didn't move.

She sniffed, her face scrunching. “Can you smell lemons?”

The torch light glared in the reflection of the glasses, and as she brought the map to the tip of her nose, the laylines cutting across her lenses like jagged cracks. She inhaled again. “It definitely smells of lemons.”

At the back of Cosmo’s mind, something sparked. And then, he realised.

"Burn it," he said.

"What?"

"Use your damn flame and torch it."

"What use is that?"

"If my instincts serve me correctly—and they usually do, I'm excellent like that—burning this sucker will show us exactly where we need to go."

"And if it doesn't?"

"If it doesn't,” Cosmo considered, “then the cartographer or whoever should've drawn a big bloody X—or if that was too difficult, they should've written at the top 'DO NOT BURN TO REVEAL WHERE THE TREASURE IS,” Cosmo shouted, his voice echoing, “ALTHOUGH THAT IS AN EXCELLENT IDEA AND I WILL USE THAT NEXT TIME'!"

Thea raised an eyebrow, and Cosmo frowned. "I'm smart,” he countered, “It'll work. Lemons turn it invisible, and dragons breathe fire.” He gestured towards the chest. “It's in the ‘Dragon Chest’, so, boop boop, put two and two together, and you get: BURN IT!”

Thea rolled her eyes. “Drama queen.”

“Always. Now, flame up!”

Closing her eyes, Thea opened her hand, pointing her palm up.

His chest tightened. Cosmo had witnessed her magic many a time, been saved by it many more. But the fear was still there—childhood indoctrinated by hatred and false pretences would do that. And he hated himself for it. It wasn't Thea's fault.

The air popped. Cosmo smelt smoke, and a brilliant flame blossomed in Thea's palm.

“If this is wrong,” she began.

“I’m not.” He really hoped not. Looking less than convinced, Thea let the two touch.

The fire caught, scorching the parchment and curling the shrinking corners inward. Embers sparked. The leylines vanished, as did the mountains and unknown towns. Black paint peeled away, revealing a layer of blue sapphire beneath and a place Cosmo recognised—a single Island at the heart of the Pacific.

That's where they had to go. There they’d find the treasure. Perhaps the scroll wasn't just kindling after all.

Cosmo grinned. “Bingo!”