Ven glowered, not liking the reference. He did not like all this skulking about and mystery, either. He wanted to ask questions, but he felt that to do so would be to play into Draconas’s game, of which Ven was growing weary. He would not give the dragon the satisfaction. He’d go see whatever this was he was supposed to see and then maybe they could discuss killing Grald.

With a final, grim glance, Ven turned and left the child standing in the tunnel. He glided forward, as quietly as his scraping claws would permit, to the tunnel’s entrance.

He looked into a brightly lit chamber, a largish chamber, in which about twenty people had gathered to hear another person speak. Here was the source of the human voices.

But Ven had been mistaken. The voices were not human. Not entirely.

Here were humans who had dragon legs, like himself. Here were humans who had human legs and dragon wings and dragon-scaled arms ending in clawed hands. There were males and females. Some were more dragon than others. One young female—the speaker—had a human head and breasts. The rest of her body was that of a dragon, though molded in a softer, human form. Delicate wings hung from her shoulders. A little boy standing beside her was almost completely human, except for a glittering scaled tail that twitched and thumped the ground as he listened.

The conversation was lively. The other half-dragons were not at all shy about questioning or challenging the speaker, who gave back as good as she got. Ven listened to them talk, but he had no sense of what they were discussing. He was too shaken.

He sensed more, then saw the child, Draca, come up to stand beside him.

“They are the dragon’s sons,” said Draconas softly. “And the dragon’s daughters.”

Ven was mute, struck dumb. He stood motionless, paralyzed by shock. He could only stare, his heart and his gut twisting together so that one was wrung and the other was wrenched.

“They are your siblings, Ven,” Draconas continued. “Your younger brothers and sisters.”

“They are monsters,” Ven stated harshly. He felt his gorge rising. “Monsters like me. No wonder they keep them hidden down here!”

The dragon’s children had their own, exceptional hearing. Though Ven had spoken in a whisper, they all heard and they all turned to stare.

“A spy!” hissed one.

“Wait!” called out the young woman. “Wait!” she called again, and this time she was speaking to Ven. “Do not run off. Didn’t you hear us? We were talking about you.”

At this, a sigh rippled through the other half-dragons. “The Dragon’s Son . . . the Dragon’s Son . . .” The whisper went around and they moved forward, not threatening, but eager and curious.

Ven had been about to flee. He had his back turned, ready to run, ready to leave this horrible image behind.