I wound my way through octahedron-shaped tables occupied by a variety of alien species and approached the only other human in the bar. “Fancy meeting you here, Flynn.”
As soon as his hazel eyes rested on me, I wished I’d dressed cuter than corporate casual. And taken more care with my hair and makeup.
“Keerful with them chickens.” Jack McGuffin eyed Earl warily as he loaded up the final crate and closed the cargo hatch of the Mud Runner. “They’re priceless, you know.” He clasped my hand in his gnarled claw. “Swiped their mother from a giant back in my youth.”
I nodded politely, ignoring his senile ramblings. It’s bad business to upset a customer, especially one paying so well.
Hundreds of intermeshed triangles emanated from Veyja’s hands, then locked with those of her fellow shieldmages to form a glowing wall. The first wave of scalewolves crashed into the barrier. Blood and spittle sprayed into the air. Veyja winced at the impact, but the wall held firm.
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“It’ll be worth it. You’ll see.”
My brother, the perpetual optimist. “You’re not the one puking over the side. Thanks to me, even the dragon probably wants this flight to be over.”
Tad’s chuckle was soft, but I could still hear it over the constant rush of air and the beat of the massive wings.
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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