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draconic ability to search a man’s mind for the truth was renowned, if somewhat exaggerated. It saved the judiciary a huge amount of time and expense. Shadow had made several
such judgements since they had been together. She had claimed confidence in her decision each time, but Pell had some doubts about her ability to be one hundred per cent sure. Despite their special
mental link he felt certain that he could hide things from her if he wanted to, so he found himself questioning how she could determine the truth in the minds of others.
    To Pell’s thinking, moving trees, or other heavy objects, was far more honest work. Shadow did not like it as much. She felt the work to be demeaning. But when funds were low, it offered a
good source of income. A dragon’s strength was greater than the combined power of several horses. Not only this, but the dragon’s intelligence meant that if you asked a dragon to move
something, it was moved to exactly where you wanted it.
    With his boots on, Pell felt more stable on his feet. He followed the woman to the door, moving more easily with almost every step. The little girl, Saffi, was waiting as he stepped through into
the next room.
    ‘Hey, mister! Is your dragon goin’ to eat old Strumble?’
    ‘Now don’t start your pesterin’, Saffi. If you wants to stay, you’ll have to promise not to bother him.’
    Pell looked at the little girl’s rebellious face and decided to answer, despite the mother’s admonition. ‘Strumble?’ he asked, giving her a smile. ‘I doubt it.
Shadow doesn’t need to eat as often as we do. She only ate yesterday, so we’ll be long gone before she needs to eat again. Who is old Strumble, anyway?’
    The little girl’s face displayed a mixture of relief and disappointment. ‘Strumble’s our cow, mister. An evil old heffer, she is. Stamp on your foot as soon as look at you she
would. An’ she’s not light, despite her bein’ skinny.’
    ‘Actually I last ate two days ago, but you can assure her that the cow is safe. I wouldn’t touch that old bag of bones unless I was starving,’
Shadow told him.
    ‘Shadow tells me she’s not interested in eating your cow,’ Pell assured her gently. ‘She likes to hunt in the wilds. The meat is tastier.’ He looked around as if
checking to see if anyone were looking, and dropped his voice to a secretive whisper. ‘Between you and me, I think she’s a bit fussy about her food. She says she can taste the
difference, but I think she’s making it up.’
    Shadow’s loud snort from outside the window set the little girl giggling, her hands covering her mouth.
    ‘The difference is marked to anyone with a sense of taste,’
Shadow huffed.
    ‘Just playing to my audience,’
Pell replied innocently, not speaking aloud.
    ‘You’re all right, mister,’ Saffi announced in a loud voice. ‘Your dragon’s a bit scary, but you’re all right.’
    ‘Thank you, Saffi. I’m glad you think so.’
    And he
was
glad. It felt good to be accepted. So why did he find it so hard to integrate into the dragonrider community? It was strange. At home he had always been accepted by his
siblings and popular with his peers, but from the moment he met Shadow his relationships with them had changed. His surge of ambition had isolated him from everyone he had held dear. He still found
it easy to charm those from whom he sensed no challenge, but amongst his peers he became insular and cold.
    Was he wrong to be ambitious? He and Shadow were a formidable partnership. He could
feel
their potential as a team. The fall, humbling as it had been, had left him feeling more
complete. When the leaders of the night dragon enclave learned he had embarked on the Great Quest, his standing would rise rapidly.
    Riders from other enclaves did not trust the night dragons. Therefore, he could not afford to trust them. It was wrong that dragons should be judged by appearance, but there was a distinct
prejudice. It was present both amongst