“A drink,” she replied with a grin. “You look like you could use one.”
Julius had never seen the point of drinking. Dragon metabolism wasn’t compatible with alcohol unless you were willing to down barrels of the stuff, and surely no one drank liquor for the taste. He definitely didn’t feel like drinking something out of a metal flask from a stranger. On the other hand, though, refusing a gift was a terrible insult, and the open flask didn’t smell like anything bad. Well, anything worse than liquor.
In the end, Julius decided he’d better take it. Strange as she looked, the dragoness was the only one who hadn’t started a conversation by insulting or demeaning him tonight. It would be a shame to insult her. Plus, given the way his mother had reacted, she was probably pretty powerful. Way too far above him to bother with poison in any case, especially when she could just punch him off the mountain. So, before he could chicken out, Julius took the flask with a nod of thanks. Keeping his eyes on hers, he lifted it to his mouth for a tiny sip…and nearly choked.
“Whatisthat?” he sputtered, wiping his tongue on the back of his hand in a futile effort to stop the burning.
It took several seconds for the dragoness to stop laughing long enough to answer. “Whiskey cut with hydra venom,” she said finally, wiping her eyes. “My own recipe.” She started giggling again. “The look on your face…”
Julius watched in horror as she took the flask back and tipped it up to her own mouth for a long swig, drinking several swallows before lowering it with a satisfied sigh. “So,” she said conversationally, tucking the flask back into her leather sack. “Which one are you?”
That would have been a strange question anywhere else, but Julius was far below most dragons’ notice, and Bethesda had alotof children. “I’m Julius.”
“Julius?”she repeated, eyes going wide.“We’re onJnow?”
“Yes,” he said slowly, trying to feel out if that was a joke or not. He’d never expect any dragon, family or otherwise, to know his name, but which clutch Bethesda was on was public knowledge. The dragon, however, looked truly flummoxed.
“No wonder you look so little,” she said, still gawking at him. “What are you, fifteen?”
“I’m twenty-four,” Julius said, trying not to sound defensive.
The dragoness shrugged. “Same difference. You’re adorable, whatever you are.” Her hand shot out to ruffle his hair. “I always forget howcuteyou little whelps can be. Do you still have your baby fluff?”
“I lost that on my first molt.”Fifteen years ago, he added to himself as he dodged out from under her hand. “But thank you.”
She stared at him blankly. “What?”
“Thank you,” he said again, pronouncing it clearly this time just in case English wasn’t her strongest language. There was always the chance she really was surprised by his thanks since it wasn’t something dragons said often, but he was far more inclined to believe she was toying with him. He was trying to think up a safe, polite way to get away from this conversation and into a better hiding spot when her face lit up.
“Wait, I know who you are!” she cried. “You’re the one Brohomir was going on about. The nice one.”
The mention of Bob’s name made Julius pause, and the dragoness clapped her hands in delight. “I knew it! No one else would be so polite for no reason. Go on, then. Do it.”
He blinked. “Do what?”
“Say something nice.”
Now heknewshe was messing with him. Still, if Bob was involved, there was a chance this might be important, so Julius sucked it up and played along. “Um, thank you for sharing your drink with me. It’s not really my taste, but I appreciate the offer.”
“Oh, you’regood,” she said, giving him a wink. “Tugging at my heartstrings with your adorable baby face and building up camaraderie while still making it sound all sincere and humble.” She whistled. “Very pro.”
Julius frowned. When she put it that way, he sounded horribly manipulative. “But I wasn’t—”
“Iknow,” she said. “That’s what makes it work.” She smiled again. “Well, if you’re going to have manners, I suppose I need them too.” She stuck out her hand. “Pleased to meet you, baby J. I’m your sister, Amelia.”
Julius’s breath caught so fast he almost choked. “Amelia?” he squeaked out. “A-melia?”
She nodded.
“B-but,” he sputtered. “Your eyes. I mean—”
“It throws everyone,” his sister said with a shrug. “Let’s just say Mother hadn’t quite gotten the hang of the whole egg-laying-factory thing yet with our set. She was only ninety-nine when I hatched, you know.”
He did know, but knowing and actually meeting a dragon from Bethesda’s first clutch were two very different things. “You’re the oldest daughter of Bethesda,” he said, eyes wide. “The last surviving A.”
“Heir to the Heartstrikers,” she continued for him. “The Planeswalker, Clan Magus, and Consort to the Concept of Mountains.” She sighed. “Just between us, though, that last one’s a wash. The Concept of Mountains and I broke up two years ago. He just wasn’t going anywhere.”
From anyone else, Julius would have thought that was a joke. Amelia looked serious, though, so he played it straight. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
