but it seems that nothing is impossible. It must have caused quite a mess in the capital.
-Not that much, - admitted Darius, picking up the vials. - Although it's not common knowledge. The Grand Master and the Marshal decided that it would be better for Draco to keep it a secret from the public. It will be easier for him.
-I suppose so, - the cleric nodded.
-How much should I add? - Bleist returned to the subject of medicine.
-The dragon dose is twelve drops on average. Unless you're a venomous dragon, - the priest looked at the boy.
-A fire dragon, - Draco muttered.
-So fourteen. That should be enough, unless you're resistant to it. - The old man smiled. - Now hurry up, or our medic will be complaining for days.
Darius stood at the window looking at the forest shrouded in the silence of the night. Today had proved to be quite a challenge. The mage could still feel the energy coursing through his veins, mixed with terror. He had not noticed the monster lurking in the forest, nor had Bellator, whom he was riding. While he could understand why he himself had not noticed the camouflaged monster, it was strange that it had escaped the attention of the three besses riding at the front. The mounts had very sensitive senses of smell and hearing, like all canines.
Bleist looked over his shoulder at the sleeping dragon. His calm, steady breathing indicated that the sleeping drugs had worked. Thanks to the quick treatment, the wound would be gone by morning, and the doctor did not foresee any complications, although he was irritated when he learned that Draco had not mentioned his other injuries. The moment the priest talked about the other injuries reminded Darius of his visit to Doctor Herpetes and his litany of old wounds sustained by the dragon. An unpleasant shiver ran through him, and he remembered the dragon's dispassionate tone of voice as he repeated that things had been worse and that he could handle it himself. Even without painkillers, Draco showed
