Page 76 - Fearless Females

Dragon: Drop that Icon!

Reluctantly, Mikhaila allowed herself to be ushered into the murky
recesses of Draco’s cave. The stench was powerful, but she had
withstood the bouquet of the sewers in Paris. Her eyes teared as she
blinked against the darkness. Slowly she became aware of her
surroundings, and fought a wave of nausea upon viewing the
dragon’s luncheon leftovers.
“Over here,” said Draco. “This is how I’ve decorated the place.”
He blew a pair of glowing streams of fire straight up through his
nostrils to provide a source of illumination not unlike the jets of a gas
lamp.
There, against one rough stone wall, leaning on a ledge, were half a
dozen icon paintings. Mikhaila casually walked up to the dragon’s
hoard and examined the pieces. Gold glinted back at her, reflecting
the flames from behind.

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