ONE
I’M DREAMING IN DRACONIC AGAIN. The long, intricate sentences come to me more easily in sleep than when I’m awake and, just before I open my eyes, my mind settles on one word. Mengkhenyass. What does it mean? I roll over, the haze of sleep lifting quickly as sunlight streams in through the sash windows. On the floor, tangled in a pile of blankets, my cousin Marquis snores. His father spent the night talking with Mama and Dad again, whispering about strikes and protests and dragonfire. Marquis’s presence on my bedroom floor is becoming a regular occurrence. The clatter of pots and pans rings from the kitchen below and I swing my legs off the bed as realisation settles in my stomach. The Chancellor of the Academy for Draconic Linguistics is coming for dinner. Here in my parents’ house. Tonight.
language of dragons latest HB.indd 9
21/10/2024 14:13