“Dragon’s Son!” said one and rolled his eyes.

“It’s true,” claimed the youngest. “I saw him. He has the legs of a dragon. And claws instead of toes.”

“And a tail, too, I’ll bet,” the eldest sneered.

“I didn’t see a tail,” said the nine-year-old.

“Pooh, you didn’t see anything!”

“I did so.”

“Did not.”

“Careful! There’s one of the Blessed!” Draconas warned, and the quarrel ended abruptly. The boys darted off down a side street. Now that they had made up their minds to this adventure, they were giving it their all.

Draconas glanced back at the Abbey. He now knew where to find Ven.

The children made a wide circle around the Abbey and were about a half-mile past it when they entered a part of the city that had the look of being very old. It was also very empty.

The stone buildings had not been kept in repair and were in various stages of tumbling down. The streets were deserted.

“I don’t like this. We’re not supposed to be here,” said one of the boys—the shoemaker’s apprentice—and he came to a halt.

“Shut up,” said the eldest. “Or maybe you want to run home to your mama.”

The boy looked defiantly at his leader, then looked around at the others. “You can all get eaten by the dragon if you want to. Not me.” He took to his heels and went racing back the way they’d come.

“Piss yellow!” shouted the nine-year-old after him.

Emboldened by this show of cowardice and caught up in the daring of their actions, the others forged ahead, picking their way through streets littered with debris. The rows of buildings came to an abrupt end at the edge of a deep ravine. The street continued on, leading to a bridge that spanned the ravine.

“Stop here!” ordered the leader and he raised his hand. The others clustered behind him, careful to keep to the shadows.

“There it is,” he said, awed.

The bridge was crude, built out of piles of boulders that had been dumped into the ravine and then fire-blasted smooth on top. On the other side, at least two miles distant, stood the Palace of the Dragon.

The palace was far different from the crudely constructed buildings of Dragonkeep. Smooth marble pillars decorated an elaborate marble portico. Marble steps flowed outward in graceful curves from immense double bronze doors adorned with the heads of dragons. Marble walls were topped by countless marble spires and battlements and turrets. The palace was very beautiful, and it was all very false.

The palace was an illusion, and not a very good one.