“Dragons?” Lucian said, pushing his glasses back up his nose as he questioned me. “Not sure I’m ready for dragons yet.” “Oh, worry not. I wouldn’t ask you to face down dragons at this point in your training. Goodness, boy—not sure I’d know where to find dragons, plural.” “Well, that’s a relief,” he said, scratching the fuzz on his upper lip, threatening, as it was, to bloom into a mustache any day. His gaze returned to the water, blue as a postcard. “Doesn’t look real,” he said. He pointed to the beach, as our ship neared port. “The sand is so white!” “Yes, yes, Lucian. Sand so white, water so blue, sky so…” We both looked up, and though I didn’t dare tear my gaze away from the sky, I was almost certain both of us stared, mouths agape. “I thought you said there wouldn’t be any dragons, Wizard.” “Well,” I said, gathering my staff and positioning it at the ready, “maybe just the one.”