Dunno what you’re worried for, Stormy. Dan scratched his head. No, sir. You’re lookin’ good. Real good. You’re a fine lookin’ dragon. For truth! But there was something off. Little Dan was only eight years old, but he’d been cleaning the Tarn’s battle cannon since he turned six. The Chief and the others were always saying that Dan didn’t know his head from a hole in the ground. That might be true. But Dan did know this: He knew when there was something wrong with one of his guns.