I don't know if I'll die tomorrow or if I'll live another fifty years. But I know this: Whatever happens, this is the best moment of my life. This is the best moment of life I can have. I'm happier than I've ever been, perhaps more than I'll ever be. This is magic—no less than becoming a dragon—and I will cling to this memory forever, even if all the world burns and all our kingdoms fall to ruin.

She fell asleep in his arms, her head on his chest. He lay awake for a long time, stroking her hair and watching the stars.

DORVIN

 
DORVIN

"Bloody bull bullocks!" Dorvin blasted out flame and whipped his tail. "You two are duller than my grandmother's cold dead corpse. Why aren't you singing with me?"

Flying across the sky with his sister and that mammoth's bottom Maev, he tossed back his head, cleared his throat, and launched back into his song. The lyrics—telling the tale of a hearty lass whose father tossed her into the river, only for her ample bosom to keep her afloat—did not seem to amuse his companions. His sister, a lavender dragon, glared at him. Maev, a green beast, banked toward him and thumped her tail against his cheek.

"Be silent!" said the flying mammoth posterior, eyes flashing. "I'll cut out your tongue next time. Your song's disgusting, and demons could hear you for marks."

He growled and blasted sparks of fire her way. "Good! I like rude songs; keeps things interesting. And I like when demons can hear me. I'd prefer a straight fight to this dull flight with two lumps of airborne shite."

Maev flicked her tail again, slamming it against his flank. "Be silent or the only thing you'll be fighting is worms in your grave."

Dorvin watched the green beast fly off, wincing at the pain of her blows. Damn creature. He grumbled under his breath. He had to admit Maev wasn't bad-looking, at least not in human form. Her hair was long and golden, her body was fit, and her face was pretty enough—at least when she wasn't thrusting out her bottom lip, haughtily raising her chin, and glaring at everything that moved. If you removed the tattoos on her arms, cleaned the mud off her, and maybe removed that old buffalo hide she always wore, she could be a fetching woman.

"It's too bad she's got the personality of rhinoceros snot," he muttered.