He might have supposed it was because they had not been exposed to ordinary humans, but he was disabused of that notion when his sister, whose name was Sorrow, took him on a tour of their lair.

“My mother named me,” Sorrow explained, seeing Ven’s startled look when she told him. “Before she died. They say that our father, the dragon, was angry when he heard what my mother called me, for I was the first-born—after you, of course—and he was vastly pleased with me. But my name was the last word my mother spoke, and the silly human who was my wet nurse was very superstitious and said my mother’s unhappy spirit would linger with me if my name was changed, and she refused to nurse me unless my mother’s wishes were honored. Our father said I was to keep the name, ‘Sorrow,’ but he added to it so that now it is ‘Bringer of Sorrow.’ And so I will be known to those humans we conquer. You’ve seen our human army?”

Ven could only nod. He didn’t know what to say, feared saying too much, and did what he was naturally inclined to do: kept silent.

“You’ve seen other human armies in the part of Dragonvarld in which you grew up. How does ours compare?” Sorrow asked eagerly.

“What did you call it?” Ven interrupted.

“Call what?” Sorrow’s thoughts were on the army.

“The world. You had a name for it.”

“Dragonvarld. Dragon World, in the human language. Have you never heard that? It is what the dragons have called this world for centuries. I understand that the humans have some other name for it. They term it ‘Dirt’ or something like that. But, then, they don’t know the truth, at least not yet, so I don’t suppose we can really blame them.”

“What truth?”

“That the dragons are the true rulers of this world and always have been. Our father tells us that the humans fancy themselves the rulers.” Sorrow laughed, rippling laughter that caused the scales on her torso to glitter and sparkle in the patches of dusty sunlight filtering down through the air shafts. “All that will soon change.”

Ven could have asked more. He could have found out all about the army and when they were going to attack and where, but he didn’t want to know It was easier not knowing. He didn’t want to think about it for that would require him to make decisions. Sorrow wanted to talk about it, however. She persisted in her questions.

“So, we were speaking of our army and comparing them to the armies of other humans. Tell me what you think.”

“There is no comparison,” said Ven flatly, hoping to end the conversation. “Human armies do not have magic. They will think they are being attacked by demons from hell. They will run like rabbits. Or die of sheer terror.”