She narrowed her eyes. “What is our heart’s desire?” “Vengeance.” His voice was soft, as if he were afraid that someone might be listening. “Justice.” Prince Doran pressed the onyx dragon into her palm with his swollen, gouty fingers, and whispered, “Fire and blood.

You kill men for the wrongs they have done, not the wrongs that they may do someday.

Old stories are like old friends, she used to say. You have to visit them from time to time.

You know, I've always considered women to be people.

I would also suggest that any aspiring writer begin with short stories. These days, I meet far too many young writers who try to start off with a novel right off, or a trilogy, or even a nine-book series. That's like starting in at rock climbing by tackling Mt. Everest. Short stories help you learn your craft.

Perhaps that is the secret. It is not what we do, so much as why we do it.

And what lesson can we draw from Volantene history? If you want to conquer the world, you best have dragons.