Arlais placed the bowl on the big worktable, pulled a chair out, and dropped into it. Popping several of the finger-sized pieces of fruit into her mouth, she said, “Well, greetings, Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-, plus ten or minus a few thousand Greats, Auntie Brigida. What brings you here to grace us with that face?”

Holding on to her big stick, the She-dragon in human form stepped out of the shadows, one leg dragging uselessly behind her.

Without saying anything, she looked over at the servants.

Arlais asked the small group of humans, “Could you lot leave us for a bit?”

The servants walked to a separate exit that would take them outside. That way they could get fresh eggs and milk from the chickens and cows being guarded in the fields and nearby barns.

When they were alone, Arlais put her feet up on the table and popped more fruit into her mouth. “So what do you want?”

“I wanted to talk to you about your future.”

“My future? What about my future?”

Brigida moved closer to the table, but she didn’t sit. Instead she simply leaned against it.

The old witch looked tired. Exhausted. Like just breathing was taking a lot out of her. But no one could live forever. Perhaps it was simply her time to die.

“Do you want to stay here, Arlais? Trapped with those who do not understand who and what you are? Living this life that means so little? All these royals and what can they offer you? Not much from what I’ve seen. You may have your father’s attitude, girl, but you’ve been gifted with your mum’s face. That won’t do much for you down the line.”

“But you can offer me more?”

“I can offer you anything. Because you can get anything. . . when you have power.”

“And what’s the price I’ll have to pay for all that delicious power?”

“Come with me. Find out.”

Arlais nodded her head and was about to reply when a giggle slipped out. She didn’t mean for that to happen but she simply couldn’t keep it in.

“I’m sorry,” she said around more laughter. “But . . . do you honestly expect me to give all this up”—she swirled her finger in the air—“so I can go and live in some slimy cave with you? Listening to you pontificate about magicks and power and making me read a bunch of boring, dusty old books?” She pointed at herself. “Do I look like my brother to you? Then again, you’ll never pry him away from my mother’s very dull skirts. But I’m not about to walk away from anything so you can have a surrogate hatchling of your own.”

Arlais swung her legs off the table, stood, and began walking around. She liked to move when she spoke. She didn’t really know how to sit quietly for hours.