Seventy-One
Prince George
It took forever for Quincy to get there. I lay in bed, screaming. I tried to focus on anything but the pain in my hand. But the flames from the shapeshifter had melted my fingers together. The pain was indescribable. My cries echoed through Toads house. Lancelot was next to me the entire time, holding onto the hand that wasn’t melted.
Quincy appeared in a puff of purple smoke. His dread locks were bright blue this time, and he looked at me with a withering stare. “What did you do?” he asked. “Did you piss off The Dragon Queen? Because if you pissed off The Dragon Queen, that was the dumbest possible move that you could have made, you know. She’s the answer to everything.”
“No,” I groaned in pain, “we were trying to save The Dragon Queen. We weren’t trying
