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I am profoundly grateful to all the readers who have taken the time to let me know how much they’ve enjoyed visiting my Otherworld, and I am especially appreciative of those people who’ve pleaded for books featuring the silver dragons. This first silver dragon novel is dedicated to all those dragon fans, with the hope that they enjoy seeing Gabriel through a new pair of eyes.

Chapter One

Chapter One

‘‘Good twin calling evil twin. The weasel crows at midnight. How copy?’’

‘‘Oh, for mercy’s sake . . . I’m busy! Stop sending me silly messages in code! If you have something to say, just say it; otherwise, radio silence, remember?’’

‘‘You’re no fun anymore. You used to be fun, but lately, I’ve noticed a change in you. Is it menopause, May?’’

Cyrene’s question took me aback so strongly, I stopped creeping down the darkened hallway and blinked in dumbfounded surprise at the mirror that hung on the wall opposite.

No reflected figure blinked back at me.

‘‘Are you still having your period? Do you experience hot flashes at night? Are you now growing, or have you at any time in the recent past grown, a mustache?’’

‘‘Goddess help me,’’ I murmured to no one in particular, and tried my best to ignore the perky little voice that chirped so happily in my ear as I continued to make my way down to the dark and deserted room. I thought for a moment of just turning off the miniature radio that allowed Cyrene to contact me, but knowledge born of long experience with my twin reminded me of the folly of such an idea.

‘‘Boy, you really are in a grumpy mood if you won’t rise to the bait of menopause,’’ she said in a mildly disgruntled voice.

I stopped briefly to admire a beautiful dull-sea green vase that sat in a glass-fronted display case before slipping silently across the room to the door opposite. ‘‘That’s because it was completely ridiculous. You’re older than me, which means you’ll be menopausal before me.’’

‘‘I’m barely older than you. Just a few years, really. A thousand at the most. What are you doing now?’’

Trying to keep from going mad, I wanted to say, but I knew better than to do that, too. Cyrene being helpful was survivable. . . . Cyrene hurt, depressed, or unhappy could have dire repercussions that I truly didn’t want to contemplate. ‘‘I’m in the library, approaching the office. Which could well have extra security, so radio silence from here on out, OK?’’