The Dragon's Disciples -Sample Chapter-

"He's here," Raul announced.

"Are you sure of it?" Shrukian asked suspiciously. "This is, after all, the third time you've announced that he's arrived."

"Positive," Raul assured him. "Open the door if you don't believe me."

Shrukian detached himself from the wall and turned to swing the door open. Sure enough, Pharun stood in the doorway, his hand poised as if to knock.

"I sometimes think you lied about never inheriting mozitane powers, my brother," Pharun said wryly, allowing his hand to drop back to his side.

"If I were a mind-wizard, I'd be too arrogant to admit I lied," Shrukian countered.

"You're very right," Pharun replied condescendingly, patting his brother's shoulder as he walked past. "You're too talented in the area of self-deprecation."

"Why would I need self-deprecation?" Shrukian wondered aloud. "When I have you to put me down?"

"Humility's a virtue,"

"And one you greatly lack, apparently."

"Nonsense! I have merely come to terms with the fact that I am perfect, and have decided life must go on, and I must learn to live with myself…"

"I'm glad you can live with yourself, because it would appear that nobody else can!"

"Boys!" Encarz's voice roared across the room. Shrukian and Pharun paused in their bickering just long enough to both rotate on the spot and turn to face their father.

"So, Pharun, you have at last deigned to grace us with your presence," Encarz leered dryly.

"Begging your pardon, father dearest," Pharun replied, performing an elaborate bow on the spot. "I was attending to a matter of interest."

"Oh?" Encarz's dark eyes glittered coldly. "And is there any matter more pressing than those of the family?"

"Assuredly, my lord," Pharun reassured him, "because very rarely does this family ever stumble across a pressing matter."

"I suppose I am cursed to have received an eldest son who possesses the attention span of a cave troll," Encarz hissed. "This matter, at least, may hold your interest."

"The day grows no younger, and neither do we," Pharun reminded him. "Let us hear this most pressing matter of supposed interest."

"Very well," Encarz motioned for them to sit. Pharun moved to the window, where he could sit comfortably on the sill, one ankle hooked under his knee. Shrukian sat down on a scattering of pillows, and Olympia and Brisha shared a divan. Encarz stood before them all, and Captain Varick stood in the doorway, for he too was curious.

"As you know," Encarz began once he was satisfied that he had everyone's full attention. "Hardly a month ago had I ridden to the capital with the news of my king father's death."

Everyone nodded – they all knew this much.

"The journey took me three days, the funeral was to be held the day after I arrived, but my journey was delayed by bad weather, and rather than arrive the day before the funeral, I arrived right as the ritual was beginning."

"This is all very well," Shrukian interrupted, "but what does it have to do with…" the remaining words died in his throat at a glare from his father.

Encarz continued as if he were never interrupted.

"What I witnessed was not a burial. It was an abomination to our race, our religion, and my dead father. They did not burn him, as is our custom, they buried him. And what is worse," he drew in a deep breath, "they did not dedicate his soul to Azrael."