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Summary
He retrieves it from his chest before dawn on the morning of the funeral. It is cool in his hands and heavier than he remembers, grey and black and faintly iridescent, the colours shifting in the candlelight.
He had bought it from a Pentoshi merchant the week you were born, had paid more than he should have and told no one what he paid and would do it again without hesitation, and you had carried it around Summerhall for three years calling it you dragon, and he had told you to put it down before you dropped it.
He wraps the egg in a plain cloth and sits with it until the light comes.
Series
- Part 2 of Blood & Fire