Mahgren paused before the enormous tome, calming the butterflies in his stomach. This was his prize, his dream, the reason he had betrayed his sire. There were secrets Kraagothial had refused to share; those secrets were Mahgren’s birthright, and now he had them. The ancient blue dragon had sneered when questioned about the legends of dragon scales, sneered when Mahgren begged for a boon from his draconic father. Now the dragon’s grin was a victus, his long tongue dangling out, a moist landing place for flies. He would sneer at his half-dragon son no more. Mahgren took a deep breath and opened The Book of Scaled Blood.