“Nothing,” said the younger girl and put her hands demurely in her lap, “nothing at all.”
Epilog
Far away in Darag’dal the ancient cathedral stood as before, and the decayed skeletal figure that sat upon the throne in the center of the floor still made no movements. Standing next to the ancient lord of all the dragon children stood Usharra; he held the claw of the Great Toxic Dragon in one hand and spoke with a tall dragon child in hushed tones. A pair of large red bat wings furled on the creature’s back and a dozen spikey protrusions emanated from its face. The creature nodded his head, with closed eyes, as the priest spoke at great length but refrained from making any comment for a long time. As Usharra’s story slowly wound down the dragon child opened its eyes with a languid motion and stared fixedly at the priest. Then it looked at the figure on the throne and nodded its head as its wings slowly unfurled, “What tribes of our people are located in the north, near Tanelorn?”