Je’hir blinked and blinked again, tears leaking out the sides of his eyes, past the tops of his ears, down the sides of his head. Sky, turquoise with wispy fluffs of pink clouds filled his vision. Directly above him, however, a wavering black dot broke the serene beauty.
“No, no, no,” he moaned, punching the ground beneath his fists and wishing the tangible evidence of his father’s treachery would just disappear.
The tiny collar weighed heavy in my hand. I’d always know Victor was special, the kind of kitten who had magic hidden deep inside. Despite his belief that he could fly, he had taken one too many risks.
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Riding a dragon is the best way to travel—most of the time. “Karr, what are you doing? This is not Adron city!” I lean over as the dragon touches down on a grassy hilltop. “I’m stopping for a nap.” Karr slurs the last word into a yawn and his purple tongue curls like a cat’s.
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“Dragon Armor?”
“Something the mages cooked up to resist dragon fire. Arrows and spears go right through it, though. Once the dragons were hunted to extinction, it became useless. But I hear you could run straight into flames and not even singe your eyebrows.”
All Misha had to do was clean up every last bit of the dead dragon, because if even a single cell survived, the dragon could be reborn. This was the last … or was it?
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“A magic system,” the dragon clarified. “You’re supposed to come up with a magic system.”
“Ohhh.” Dave nodded slowly. He glanced down at the book. “You know, rules aren’t really my strength. How about we just let magic do its own thing this time, figure it’ll sort itself out eventually?”
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