Chapter 11 #3
“Coming down?” asked Covington, the faintest touch of impatience in his voice. He was staring up at me with his usual scowl, Scarlett eyeing him with a disappointed pout from a few steps away.
“She can’t get down,” jeered Scarlett, covering her red lips as she moved closer to Covington.
So much for trying to save your life, I grumbled to myself. Of course, Scarlett didn’t know I’d run after her to warn her of the wild dragon.
Pinching my lips into a tight smile, I swung my leg over the saddle, hunting for the lowest loop with my toes. When laughter started again, I just let go, landing on the stones with a jolt that partially crushed my ankles. Covering my pain with a smile, I turned to them.
Scarlett’s brows were reaching for her hairline, shocked or offended by my unladylike dismount. Covington stormed forward.
“I need to talk to you,” he said through gritted teeth, bearing down on me.
I bumped into Myth’s side, trapped. “Fine. Are they invited?” I tilted my head toward Scarlett and the others, who could clearly hear anything we said in here.
Covington whirled around, his eyes traveling now to Clarence, who was arriving on his dark green dragon. We were trapped by dragons, and I doubted he wanted to say what was on his mind while the others were here. He ran a hand down his face.
“I’ll find you later,” he hissed and paced over to Azeron, edging him farther from Myth in the wide aisle now filling up with dragons.
It wasn’t until Vanya bounded toward me that I snapped out of my daze. Bryce strode in after her, his arms spread wide.
“Riders!” he shouted, his voice booming down the aisle.
It took a minute for the excited chatter to settle, then we were all facing the lairmaster. Indigo stood at his side, her arms crossed, a smile on her face.
“That concludes our ceremony. You all have been assigned a den. Your assignment for the day is to properly acquaint your dragon with his or her new home and to put away all your tack in the appropriate places in your assigned den. We will be checking this, as well as the hygiene of the den, in the morning for a grade. We will check before breakfast. You’ve been warned.
” Several moans issued from the first years.
“Your dens are in alphabetical order, regardless of your house. Find your names on the plaques. And, hatchlings…your lifelong bond with your dragon depends largely on how well you connect these next few months. Early experiences during a bonded dragon’s life leave lasting impressions.
Keep that in mind. When you are finished, join us in the Great Hall for your official welcome reception.
” He nodded and turned back toward the rotunda, which was still humming with the voices of the upperclassmen.
The lair buzzed with energy as the first years found their name plaques and led their dragons through the huge sliding doors and into their temporary homes.
My pulse was so loud in my ears as I weaved around the others, moving toward the middle of the alphabet. Myth waited patiently where I’d left him.
There it was. Miro, etched on a bronze plaque.
Even though I’d felt excitement when I’d seen it on the dormitory door, seeing it here brought a wave of panic.
Covington would tell someone the truth about Myth, and everyone here would learn that my name was a fake, that I was a fraud.
My time here was limited. I felt it in my bones.
I needed to find answers for Fairfax, and fast.
Grasping the metal handle, I leaned my weight into the heavy door and slid it open. “In here,” I said as I led Myth inside.
Once we left the crowded, noisy aisle, it was like stepping into our own little world.
The den was stone, and the sounds outside were muffled into almost complete silence.
In the far corner was a platform, like the ones in the dens at the duke’s lair.
There was even an enormous hammock hanging from the ceiling with heavy ropes. I smiled at it.
The skylight above lit the space, but there were also sconces protruding from the walls. Old-fashioned, I noted as I walked beside Myth, my hand on his warm side.
“What do you think?” I asked.
Myth sniffed the air, but he didn’t move.
“Different from the forest, I know. But better than that lair you’ve been in.” My heart ached briefly at the idea that his wildness had been taken from him when he’d bonded with me. It was stone walls and school schedules now.
His snout bumped against my arm, startling me. His eyes glowed in the sunlight streaming in from above, and the gold on his scales glinted. The heaviness in my chest lightened as if someone had removed a rock from my ribcage.
“Thank you,” I said, stroking his long face. I was eager to learn the ins and outs of our bond, and whether or not I’d ever be able to know for certain if he was happy with his choice. He’d sacrificed the skies to be here with me, to lift me from the shadows.
I could never repay him for that.
All I could do was fight to keep him alive when the time came that his flame was found out.
Once Myth was unsaddled, his tack put away, and I was fairly certain he wouldn’t light his hammock on fire, I left and headed to the reception.
In the Great Hall, Fairfax swept toward me, a whiskey in one hand, a broad smile on his face. “Arivelle,” he said, offering me a small bow.
“Lord Fairfax,” I replied.
“Uncle Merlon, please.” His tone was sharp, a reminder.
I nodded, embarrassed that I’d already messed up. “Thank you for the saddle,” I said, trying to make amends. But the memory of my abysmal job mounting Myth brought a fresh wave of blush up my neck.
Fairfax’s hand braced my shoulder in a familial way. “Chin up, my dear.” Then he leaned in, voice low. “They will not expect much from you now.” When he leaned back, his calculating smile said he considered this a boon.
A dark horse. That was what I was supposed to be. He had great faith in me if he assumed I could be a contender in the year-end race. At this rate, I expected everyone else to be months, if not years, ahead of me in training.
“Remember what I told you,” he said, tipping his head at me.
I couldn’t forget. But now that I was here, his words about succeeding felt further out of reach. But I swallowed and nodded.
“Good. Now, let me introduce you to my dear friend, Headmaster Vaughan.”
“I’ve met him.”
Fairfax chuckled and led me through the Great Hall, where each round table was decked with fresh flowers and finger foods stacked like pyramids. “You’ve met him. That is not the same as being introduced to him by me.”
Pinching my lips to keep from scoffing, I followed and smiled while being introduced to my headmaster.
I nodded at all the right times while Fairfax monologued about his latest dragon trainer to arrive at his southern estate.
Headmaster Vaughan, to his credit, listened intently, never once appearing bored.
“Miss Miro, you are very lucky indeed to have an uncle like Merlon,” said Vaughan. “It was indeed a pleasure to meet you again. And I am delighted you are settling in well here at Cardan Lott. Best of luck to you this year.”
The reception passed with smiles and handshakes and words of well-wishes to all the first years. Even Luther seemed less inclined to punish us today, not insisting we stand as he passed in the common room.
“I want to go check on Myth one more time,” I told Vanya as she turned to head up to bed later that evening.
“He’s fine, Ari.”
“I know, I just…miss him.”
Her smile said she understood, and for that I liked her even more. “Go on,” she said, “I might be asleep, though. I’m exhausted.”
The lair was dark, save for a few burning torches along the inner aisles. It felt like stepping back in time when flame was the only light.
The heavy door made a grinding sound as I slid it open and slipped into Myth’s dark den. I left the door ajar, not wanting to make more noise than necessary in this eerily quiet lair.
Myth hopped down from the platform where he’d been sleeping, moving into the sliver of warm light pouring in through the open door.
“How are you?” I asked, grinning as he tossed his tail back and forth. “We’re not going to get to ride right now, I’m sorry. I just wanted to check on you.”
His tail stopped flopping and slid less enthusiastically across the stone floor.
“I know, I’m sorry. We will soon. I promise.” Taking his face in my hands, I whispered to him, “Remember, you can’t use your flame, for any reason. I hope you can understand what I’m saying.”
His snort was my only reply. His breath was hot against my chest, but not painful. I nodded and turned to go.
As I stepped toward the flickering light outside Myth’s den, a figure stepped in front of the door, blocking my way.
It was Rushland Covington.