“I always listen,” Jenna told Aimee and me as she peeled her orange. “Always.”Tales of the Talisman has, by the way, won my lifelong admiration by being the only magazine ever to offer to me payment in dinosaurs. (Yes, of course I accepted. How can one not accept payment in dinosaurs?)Aimee rolled her eyes. She tossed an Oreo across the kitchen table; I caught it, twisted the halves apart, and scraped the cream filling out with my teeth. I added the chocolate wafers to the growing pile between us.
“Are you allowed to do that?” Jenna asked. It was her favorite question.
“It’s for the dragons,” Aimee said. Aimee and I had been leaving Oreos behind for years, since we were little and Aimee was afraid the dragons might eat her. I’d always known dragons didn’t eat people, and by now Aimee knew too, but that didn’t stop us. Neither did the fact that no dragon had ever claimed our chocolate offerings.
(ETA: I’ve also set up an lj feed for Talisman editor David Lee Summers’ blog, over at davidleesummers.)