The Dragon’s Appraiser: Part Two by Viola Rivard Page B

the new things he was learning. Much like the countless trinkets within his lair, Sevrrn had a vast vocabulary at his disposal. But until he had met Madja, he had never truly considered what all of these words meant. She was his youngest possession—not even three decades old—and yet she was expanding his universe like nothing before her.
    His mind, which was never entirely focused on one thing, latched on to something she said.
    “If there are Mandurian traders at the port, we could probably get as much as a hundred and fifty silvers for it.”
    Realizing she was holding up his golden tablet again, he scowled.
    “We will not be selling that,” he informed her.
    After he had taken his release in her mouth—a memory that Sevrrn would not soon forget—she had further convinced him that they needed to sell off some of his possessions in exchange for modern currency. This way, they would be able to purchase things in her precious marketplace.
    “Why not?” she asked, waving the tablet in front of him. “What use could you possibly have for this?”
    “You told me that there were only fifty-seven of these tablets created. It could quite well be the last one of its kind and you expect me to hand it over to some stranger in exchange for a few common pieces of silver? Do I look like a fool to you?”
    He heard her sigh. That sound displeased him, but he allowed it.
    “How about this, then?”
    He glanced over to see that she had picked up one of the gold coins from the floor. On one side, it bore the face of a sullen prince; and on the other, a symbol that bore a likeness to a fish. There were precisely seventy-two grooves on the rim, two of which were almost completely worn away.
    “You are not selling that, either.”
    “Why not? You probably have a thousand of these coins lying around on the floor.”
    “I have fourteen thousand, twelve hundred and two coins that are similar to that one. They bear the same shape, size, and design, though each varies in some way, however slightly.”
    This time, she groaned. “I don’t know whether to be annoyed or impressed that you know that. But please, help me out here. There has to be something you’re willing to sell.”
    “Why don’t we sell that spoon you’re always carrying around?” he suggested.
    What was the word for that?
    Petty?
    Madja’s face wilted. “I can’t sell that. I told you before, it’s all I have left of my father.”
    He arched a brow—by far his favorite of human facial expressions. So much could be conveyed with such a simple gesture.
    She said, “I don’t know if you remember, but eight years ago, the Allonans declared war on us. They sent out a fleet of a dozen warships to raid our capital. Everyone panicked. The nobles, primarily traders, were ordered to surrender their ships to defend the city. My father was one of the few wealthy residents of the city that didn’t own a ship and so he was ordered to surrender all of his gold so that we could make an offering to you.”
    Sevrrn felt himself frown. “I do not remember an attack on the island, nor such an offering.”
    “That’s because neither ever came. My father surrendered all of his gold, except for a set of golden flatware. He wanted to have something to bargain with if we were invaded. The family in charge of collecting his gold—the Kavesh—they hired mercenaries to search our estate. When they found the gold, my father was convicted of treason and sentenced to death.”
    Madja paused, blinking several times before continuing. “Meanwhile, in a very bizarre twist of fate, the Allonan warships were all called back to their home port. Apparently their capital was attacked by a dragon.”
    Sevrrn nodded. “I remember that.”
    “You were there?”
    “No, I heard about it in the other realm. It is all they ever talk about.”
    His sister Valdyra had been, without a doubt, the most powerful of all the original dragons. She had also been the most impulsive, irrational, and