The warlock arched his eyebrows at me. “I thought this was about how useful I was to you,” he commented.
“Yes,” I agreed. “I am yet to see that, too. It’s easy enough for Aurien to return you from whence you came if you prove too much trouble.”
“Aurien, Aurien, Aurien,” Daerton murmured, leaning back on the chair and regarding my dragon. “A mystery, our dragon friend,” he said to me. “Isn’t he?”
“In many ways, yes,” I replied honestly.
“In many ways, yes,” Daerton agreed. “Yaden ras tal?” Why is that? He asked Aurien.
“Prianthe-”
“Prianthe amar ith,” Daerton finished for my dragon. “Valsaurienkachelial, prianthe amar ith, nyat yaden?” But why, Aurien? It was a question I wanted answered myself, but from the glare my dragon sent the warlock, an answer would not be forthcoming.