When the waiter at Bigfoot BBQ brought my tray of brisket, ribs, beans, and collard greens, I dug in with enthusiasm, wishing I could eat Diavan’s share too. He sat across from me, looking cheerful and perky as he grabbed his cornbread. I couldn’t believe he’d slept through the entire dragon encounter, snoring in oblivion while I was getting my mind diddled.
I also couldn’t believe that, once I’d finally fallen asleep, I’d spent the night dreaming of riding a black dragon over the city, over the mountains, and across the Sound—and loving it. Laughing as we dipped and soared, looking down at a passenger ferry from high above and startling sea lions sunning themselves on a beach. Either my mind was messing with me or Xervan had left the notion in there, along with the one of me eagerly doin
