Key of Living Fire (The Sword of the Dragon) by Scott Appleton Page B

gold-blue eyes, Oganna pulled him gently toward the house. Ah, she had grown up. How long had it been since she giggled in her crib?
    “Ooh yum! Now that’s an apple tart to smack my lips to,” Ombre’s voice said from the kitchen. He slapped something and Evela laughed.
    Ilfedo stepped through the doorway and closed the door behind him. He slipped his cloak off his back, then handed it to Oganna. She ran to the pegs on the far side of the main room whilst he took in the warmth of home. This place had turned out exactly as he’d planned it those many years ago. And now, even with her gone, the Creator had seen fit to fill Ilfedo’s home with the laughter of true friends and a special offspring.
    The dragon ring bit his finger with a burning sensation. He stared at the ring, and the dragon thereon growled up at him.
    “Father, what is that?” Oganna stepped close with her brow furrowed.
    Ombre frowned and crossed his arms, eyeing the strange jewelry.
    But Caritha and her sisters sighed in unison. “It is a gift from the prophets, Oganna. It is a ring given to someone who must undertake a task within a certain time frame.”
    Ilfedo glanced at the woman and held forth his hand. “You have seen this before?”
    “Yes, though never have I seen it used.” Caritha stroked the white-gold dragon with her finger, and it stretched contentedly. “It is said a dragon ring will constrict itself around the bearer’s finger until that bearer nears his journey’s destination. It cannot be removed by force, and it will only relax its hold as its bearer fulfills his task.”
    Oganna frowned. “Father, what task?”
    Resting his hand on her shoulder, he sighed. “Dinner before questions, if you will, my daughter.”
    Late that night, after a satisfying supper, Ilfedo opened his root cellar and brought out a mug of apple cider. Everyone sat around the fireplace, exchanging memories and laughing at Rose’el and Ombre’s occasional jests. Caritha situated herself next to Ombre and rose often to bring him cheese, cakes, and cider. Never had Ilfedo seen her more radiant. Ombre’s arm slipped around her shoulders, and she turned to flash a smile at him.
    Ilfedo took his daughter’s soft hand and kissed it. Smiling into her blue-gold eyes, he felt the days to come rise within them, as if the future were a sunrise reflected in her soul.
    Seivar waddled between Evela and Levena. He hopped onto the hearth and stretched out his wing. His beak combed each long white feather with great care. Soon Hasselpatch joined him. The birds snuggled and closed their eyes. But Seivar blinked at Ilfedo. “It is good to have you home again, master.”
    Ilfedo nodded at the faithful creature, smiling.
    Slithering out of the kitchen, Oganna’s viper companion hissed out apologies as it slid across several sisters’ feet. It stretched around the birds and closed its eyes. But Seivar raised his head and aimed his silver beak at the creature. For a moment the viper seemed not to notice, then, inch by inch, it slithered off to its own spot, closer to the fire, and coiled there. Its forked tongue slicked in and out as it fell asleep, and Seivar relaxed, closing his silvery eyes. “Despicable winged creaturesss,” the viper hissed.
    Oganna stifled a yawn and stood, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder. “So, Father, have you nothing to say of your trip?”
    He set down his mug. “My trip?”
    “Yes.” She smiled, picked up his mug, and brought it to the kitchen. As she picked up a jug and poured cider into his mug, she held his gaze with curious eyes. “You know . . . where did you go, who did you see, what did you do?”
    He blinked his heavy eyelids. “Ah, that.” As she held up her skirt, stepped over Rose’el’s legs, and handed him the mug, he rested his head against the fireplace. Ombre and the sisters hushed their conversations and looked at him. “I suppose now is a good time to tell you, though I had hoped we’d hold off the serious