The ghoul held out a bundle of stained gravecloth. He had been waiting for Garrett at their regular meeting place, a junction in the tunnels beneath the old library. "Thanks," Garrett said, stopping to take the gift. He passed his witchfire torch to the ghoul to free up his hands. "Did Uncle tell you it was my birthday?" "Yeah," Warren said, "I brought the body to the house myself. Your uncle had my dad looking for a good deader all last week. Thought we were gonna have to dig one up at the last minute, but dad came through with a fresh one just in time." Garrett finally managed to work loose the rough knots holding the bundle together, and the package spilled open. Inside lay what looked like a polished black stone a little larger than a finger. It was oblong, broken at one end, and tapered to a point. An uneasy feeling crept over him as he looked at it. "What is it?" Garrett asked. "A tooth," Warren said, "Dragon tooth, I think.
