Zmey Gorynych stalked through the golden halls of Catherine Palace. Fire burned beneath his skin, and his long fingers curved into talons. He could not tarry in his mission—his true, powerful form yearned to be unleashed. Now that he was no longer tethered to humanity by Alyona’s soft words, her gentle kisses,
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Sir Gregory stepped out from behind the overturned table, dusted the ash off his boots, and exhaled in relief. Not even a scuff on the shiny leather. He ran fingers over his cape made from a manticore’s pelt. That, too, was as luxurious as ever. He stared through the broken wall at the departing
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Flames swept across the living room as the young dragon wailed. One fireball incinerated a garland while another illuminated the Christmas tree.
Coppelia Potts stared with mouth agape. She’d have to update her résumé once again: full-time Nightmare Hunter, part-time babysitter, and elder sister to a temperamental dragon.
Coppelia grabbed a blanket
The portal closed with a whumph and the smell of old books. I’d teleported myself deep beneath the massive castle complex of the Infinite Library, chasing rumors of ancient, forgotten books.
Dangerous books.
I hadn’t been expecting carpet.
I Imparted will into a small light sphere made of bronze. It floated at eye-level
I sat stooped at the edge of the castle fountain, waiting patiently to die. The hum of humanity inundated me. It filled the outer bailey—travelers swapping rumors, merchants shooing children from their tents. I was surrounded by people, yet alone. I had no offspring, no kin, not a soul who knew my name.
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With a final cry, I swept the ogre’s foul head off his body and sidestepped as he crashed to the ground beside his two brethren. Before the dust settled, I bounded up the hill to their lair, whence black smoked billowed. They kept their ill-gotten treasures within—and their captives, who cried piteously
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Rule 44: Dragons are not heroes—do not act like one.
It’s one of the many rules I, Orpheus, abide by. One of 345, to be exact. Though please don’t ask me to recite them all—I simply haven’t the time. Cave dwelling involves much slumbering and polishing of scales.
But I’ll tell you a few.
The portal closed with a whumpf and the briny scent of the sea. And maybe a hint of giant sea turtle. I gazed up at the heights of the mossy stone castle. A few cold stars shone above like chips of diamond.
Once inside, the halls were dark. Good. I didn’t want to
“Again.”
The voice that reached Pulsar along the communications thread was neither impressed nor impatient.
Pulsar pivoted away from the smoldering target at the edge of the training field to face the figure near the far-off arsenal. “But Master U’drec—I executed the maneuver perfectly! Why—”
“Return to start position, Squire.”
“You are, without doubt, the laziest dragon hunter I have ever encountered,” scoffed Dorvan’s unwelcome visitor, a young knight.
“Oh? What gave it away?” Dorvan sat outside his cottage with his feet propped up on a stool. He did not even look up as he turned a page in his book.
“I once thought
Gredna surveyed the sand and scrub ahead, tapping a claw to her muzzle. How could they get home?
Rocky mounds closed in on them from three sides. The hollow looked familiar, but no tracks marked the area.
Her brother, Hokle, crouched on all fours by a streambed, moonlight glinting off his tan scales
The galaxy stretched out before me, brightly colored stars blinking beckoningly. I stepped toward it, tucking the long chain with its ornate key back into my shirt as I pulled the door shut behind me, closing off the suspended wooden platform with its many other portal doorways. Standing on the edge of the
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