Page 186 of Nine-Tenths

"Turning Over?"

Auntie Pattie cuts a look between us. "Did he not tell you?"

Dav heaves a put-upon sigh. "No. I didn't want to overwhelm Colin with everything the microsecond after we kissed the first time, and it's caused a never-ending refrain of recrimination from everyone I know."

I pat his tummy consolingly, mocking him only a little. "Dav made a book for his first Favorite. Sat her right down on the ocean crossing and made her read it cover to cover before he'd let her accept his suit."

Dav startles. "Who told you that? Oh. Onatah."

"And he didn't do that for you?" Auntie Pattie asks.

"I sort of bumbled into the whole thing, you know, and…"

"Colin was already so… agitated."

"Freaked out."

"Discomfited."

"Freakingthe fuckout—"

"That I thought it would compound the issue."

Auntie Pattie interrupts our playful banter. "But you could give him the book now?"

Dav shrugs. "I didn't know he was aware of it. And he hasn't asked for it."

"I'm asking now."

"It's at Fynyth."

"I'm gonna pinch you if you keep being sassy!"

Dav laughs. "No you won't."

I peck a kiss off his cheek instead. "No, I won't."

Auntie Pattie lets us settle, and then says: "Forgive me but…firstFavorite?" Dav immediately goes still and silent. "Ah. My condolences."

"Thank you."

"Turning Over?" I prompt.

Auntie Pattie looks at Dav, leaving this one to him.

"Dragons don't die of old age," Dav says slowly.

"Oookay…" Are they pulling a prank on me? Though, when they would have had time to plan it, I'm not sure. Right, when I was pacing. "That's literally what happens when you get old but…?"

"For humans, yes," Dav says. "But ours…" he gestures at his own chest. "We solidify."

"Solidify," I repeat, deadpan.

"Turn to stone," Dav says after a pause. Then he takes a deep breath and plunges ahead, ripping off the band-aid: "Dragons are born in human shape, and as the centuries pass we spend less and less time on two legs, until it's more comfortable to be in dragonform all the time. And then the stone takes over, little by little. Cell by cell. We stop eating, stop making fire, and then, one day just… stop altogether."

I shudder, horrified by the image of Dav going still… forever.

"Normally the end comes with lots of warning," Auntie Pattie says gently. "Dragons will choose a cave, or a plinth, or the back corner of the Estate's Sleeping Garden, somewhere they'd like their remains to either be protected from the elements, or on display for their hoard."

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