Half of what I write is imaginative reality. The other half is realized impossibilities. Blended into one, these make a fantasy.

Blunt turned to the man in question with a helpless grin, "You have always proven yourself a mystery to me, good fellow!"Falconer lifted one corner of his mouth, "Then I have succeeded, Blunt.

I have chosen a life that depends on one’s awareness that every breath may be his last, every step may bring his downfall, and every word may stir betrayal. In truth, I must live in conscious ignorance of the mere thread that holds my life aloft, trusting that God alone has the power to sever it, and that He will do so only when my work on earth is complete.

The message had been delivered. All they could do now was wait. Valden hated waiting.

Now then," he mused, "how does one fly a dragon?