Chapter One Hundred and Ten

　　Present Day

　　As he returned up the stairs, Sylvin’s thoughts tumbled with plans. The dragonets might take up to twenty-hours to hatch according to his genetic memories, and once hatched, as Tayem had suggested, they would be hungry. After eating, they would be content to spend some time sleeping beneath the wings of their attending parent.

　　But when they woke, they would seek to fly. It would take many small trips to strengthen their wings before they would be ready to cross the channel. Days, perhaps a week. And then he would lead them back to Macedius’ court and seek his revenge.

　　“My Lord,” Paryden greeted him as he stepped out of the staircase into the throne room. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

　　“The eggs have begun hatching, but it will take time. I am sent by the parents to organize food for them.”

　　“Food, My Lord?”

　　“Red meat is best,” Sylvin explained. “Recently deceased.”