Leif hunched her shoulders and scratched at her slightly itchy neck.
She finally realized where that vague, indescribable sense of familiarity from earlier had come from.
When she’d been parting ways with the demon dragon, it had given her a black vial made from dragon bone, filled to the brim with dragon saliva.
At first Leif had only found the thing creepy, so she’d tossed it onto the grass and ignored it.
All the way down the road she’d agonized over the dragon spit’s effects and its…origin. Bit by bit, she talked herself around: bird’s nest soup was, at...
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