Tanner Scheibner

Wayward Sons

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. The ghosts of the past never pulled at the King’s cloak so much, as when he climbed up the royal catacomb staircase cold and damp. He propped up the hatch above his head as the two of three Rivett sons emerged with him. Before this Nineteenth of Spectral Dowager, it never occurred to sandy-blond Hen how his makeshift fort was being singed; or that dark-haired Quade, who cleaned the castle kitchen so carefully that morning, would not see it intact again.