“Promathan?” Modi said, after they had walked for some time under the dappled forest shade. “Shouldn’t we—shouldn’t you—get some help if you plan to face two dragons?”
Promathan drew his horse around a particularly wide oak tree to avoid a patch of briers. “Without question. If these were grown dragons, I’d just as soon find something else to hunt. But those scales we found came from hatchlings—probably not much older than fifty or sixty years.”
Modi, who had found a walking stick tall enough to reach his shoulder, tapped it lightly on the ground near a set of double claw prints in the dirt. “Do dragons usually hunt in pairs when they’re young?”
The boy asked cogent questions, and he seemed to take the dragons’ long lives in stride. Shame he was a near slave to the town sheriff. He shou
