“Bah!” Jojin exploded in exasperation while reaching for the leather flask of water and heaving it toward the Niscian. “Insane. That’s what we are. Insane.”
Grimly, he began picking at his skewer, flecking off tiny portions and chewing on them. Yet I felt his soul and could sense he was already thinking where he might go and whom he might find to recruit. A few more minutes rolled by, and he offered us his thoughts.
“Two months hard riding south of here is a small kingdom called Keltus. The Kelts breed a Great Wing almost as strong and as fast as the Vik’s. As warriors, they are some of the best. But their numbers are few.”
“What makes you think they would be willing to fight alongside dragons to stop a dragon prophecy?” the ancient warrior-monk asked, lifting a shaggy gray eyebrow as
