A heartbeat.
Thump... thump, thump...
A heartbeat that had slumbered for a thousand years awakened amid the mingling of fire and frost.
Daenerys froze.
She held the black-and-red Dragon Egg as though cradling a newborn child.
Its distinct, powerful pulse traveled through her palms and spread throughout her body.
"It... it's alive..."
She murmured to herself.
Her violet eyes were filled with astonishment.
Lynn said nothing.
His hand still covered Daenerys's.
Cold magic flowed ceaselessly into the three Dragon Eggs.
It formed a strange balance with the flames in the fireplace.
Of course he knew the Dragon Eggs were alive.
But he knew even better that this was only the beginning.
Fire and frost alone were far from enough to make these three true dragons hatch.
These three Dragon Eggs needed sacrifices.
They needed a king's blood to bathe their throne.
They needed the blood of a true dragon to awaken their bloodline.
And they needed a sage's blood to unlock their wisdom.
Lynn's gaze passed through the dancing flames, as though he could see the distant east.
The boundless grasslands known as the Dothraki Sea.
He saw a powerfully built man astride a fine horse, his presence as imposing as a lion's.
Khal Drogo.
A born king.
Then he saw a witch kneeling in the dust, her eyes venomous as she performed Blood Magic.
Mirri Maz Duur.
A sage versed in Blood Magic.
Finally, his gaze returned to Pentos.
It settled on the man who was now lost in dreams of kingship, drunk out of his mind.
Viserys Targaryen.
The last "true dragon."
The sacrifices had been chosen. The feast was about to begin.
"Lynn..."
Daenerys's voice drew him out of his thoughts.
She raised her head, joy and confusion mingling on her beautiful face.
"What should we do?"