29. Aurora
AURORA
“Hey—I can walk on my own, you know!” I protested as we hurried down the hallway. “You don’t have to drag me!”
“I’ll have to carry you if you can’t keep up,” was his curt reply. “The dragons are waiting and we need to get airborne.”
“I can…can keep up,” I panted. We were running up the stairs by this time but thankfully only one level since the classrooms were on Level Three and the Flight Terraces were on Level Four.
Despite my words, I really had to scramble to keep up with Ryse.
He was taking the stone stairs two at a time, his long legs eating up the distance as we hurried to the Flight Terraces.
I wanted to ask what was the rush—did the dragons get angry if they had to wait for their riders for too long?
But I was too out of breath to do anything but pant by the time we reached our destination.
The Flight Terraces were broad stone ledges that stuck out from the side of the mountain. They were big enough for at least twenty Noble sized dragons to land and take off at the same time or thirty if they were just common Browns, Greens, and Blues.
The sky above was blue and clear, and dragons were already dropping down to the ledges from their caverns above on Level Five, and snorting for their riders.
I caught my breath when I saw them—I had never seen so many dragons so close.
Even seeing the massive Turquoise Gold-wing at the Hatching Grounds yesterday hadn’t prepared me.
She had been lying quietly—these were snorting and tossing their heads.
Some were blowing smoke rings from their flaring nostrils.
The air was thick with the scent of dragons—a kind of burning cinnamon mixed with smoke scent that filled my senses until I was almost dizzy. We were surrounded by creatures that ranged from the size of a small cottage to the size of a large cathedral. It was awe-inspiring.
I counted seven Browns, five Blues, and two Greens who had already landed. There were many more common dragons than Nobles. The Terrace Workers were already saddling them as fast as they could while their riders waited impatiently.
I knew the dragons were impatient too, because I could feel it—the emotion rolled off them in waves.
Dragon emotions are always so strong and there were so many of them, it was like standing in a high wind.
I could almost hear them all saying, “Hurry, hurry, hurry! We want to fly—we want to be free!”
“So that’s why we had to…had to run here,” I remarked, still panting a little.
Ryse, who had been scanning the caves above, no doubt looking for his own dragon, looked down at me and frowned.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Oh, I was just wondering why we had to hurry up and get here but it’s because all the dragons are impatient to fly with their riders,” I said. “They just can’t wait to get into the air.”
He gave me a strange look but then he nodded.
“Well, yes—that’s true,” he admitted.
“I don’t understand though—can’t they fly on their own?” I asked.
Ryse shook his head.
“They can, but it’s not the same. When a rider and dragon are flying together, that’s the closest they can get to being one being. And it’s a special treat to get extra flying time in the middle of the day. Nobody wants to waste a minute of it.”
“I see.” I nodded and watched as four of the Browns and both of the Greens took off. This left room for a Crimson Bronze-wing and an Emerald Gold-wing to land. Both of them were huge—though the Gold-wing was the biggest by several lengths.
“Here comes M’alek,” Ryse said. “I don’t want you to be scared, Lysandra—he won’t hurt you.”
“Scared? Why would I be sca—” I began.
And then a shadow blotted out the sun.
Looking up, I saw the biggest dragon I’d ever seen descending from the caverns above to the Flight Terraces. His wings were so wide they cast a shadow over everyone below and his head was at least twice as big as I was tall—maybe twice as big as Ryse was tall.
He had the most beautiful coloring I’d ever seen—royal purple scales that flashed gold in the sun when he flexed his massive wings. A Midnight Gold-wing—the only one born in a century—the rarest breed of dragon there was.
I drew in a breath at his sheer size and beauty and let it out in a long sigh.
“Oh,” I breathed. “He’s magnificent.”
“Yes, he is.” There was pride on Ryse’s face as he watched his dragon descend and land lightly, despite his great weight, on the terrace closest to us.
The enormous dragon lowered his head to us as the Terrace Workers rushed to fit him with his saddle. He nosed at Ryse, making a low rumbling sound in his long throat that sounded almost like an enormous cat purring.
“Hey, boy…how are you?” The stern lines of Ryse’s face melted into a loving smile as he reached up to stroke the dragon’s massive muzzle. “Yes, I know,” he murmured, as though answering a remark the dragon had made. “We get to go riding twice today. I’m happy too.”
I could feel the love flowing between them—it was the purest emotion I’d ever felt and it almost made me cry. I understood a little more about the bond between a rider and his dragon now—this depth of emotion you couldn’t get from another person—only a dragon could give it to you.
It was a shame that my father and his dragon had always been in such a rage all the time. I wished I could have felt the love between them, as I was able to feel it flowing between Ryse and M’alex.
The huge dragon snorted, and his golden, dinner-plate-sized eyes rolled towards me. Clearly, it was a question. I could feel his curiosity nudging me like a questioning finger, wanting to know me.
“Oh, right.” Ryse nodded and turned to me. “You need to be introduced before you can ride on his back.” He turned back to his dragon. “M’alex, this is Auri—Auren Lysandra of the Great House Lysandra.”
I was surprised he knew my formal name—I hadn’t known that he knew my nickname or my full name either. (Or really, my brother’s full name.)
He turned to me and said,
“Auri, this is M’alek.”
“It’s very good to meet you,” I said, stepping forward. I looked up at Ryse. “Can I touch him?”
He gave me an amused look.
“Why don’t you ask him? He’ll let you know if he wants to be touched.”
I looked up at the enormous dragon. His head was twice as big as my body, but I felt no menace coming from him, only that same eager curiosity.
“Hello, M’alek,” I said, addressing him formally. “You’re absolutely beautiful. May I touch you?”
M’alek rumbled softly. Then he stretched his neck and laid his head all the way down on the stone terrace so that his enormous eye was directly level with my head. I got a feeling from him that was so strong it was almost like words—stronger than any feeling I’d ever gotten from any dragon.
“Oh, he’s itchy,” I said, stepping towards him. “He wants me to scratch his eye ridges.”
Ryse’s black eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“Wait—how do you know that?” he demanded.
I frowned at him as I stood on my tiptoes to reach the itchy eye-ridge—a bony protuberance just above the enormous eye.
“I just felt it—felt what he was feeling. Don’t you?”
“Well yes, but I’m his rider!” he exclaimed.
I wasn’t sure what he was getting worked up about.
“Yes, I know—what’s your point?”
“My point is, how can you feel what another rider’s dragon is feeling?” he demanded.
I shrugged.
“I’ve always been able to feel dragon emotions—can’t everyone?”
“No, they fucking can’t!” He still looked shocked, as though I’d said something unbelievable. “So you’re telling me you can feel the emotions of every dragon here?” he demanded.
“Well, sure.” I looked at him in confusion. “Dragons have such strong feelings they send them out to everyone—isn’t that right?”
“Yes, but not everyone can feel them all the time.” He shook his head and pointed at one of the blue dragons who was shifting from foot to foot as his rider mounted. “What’s he feeling?”
“Easy—he’s impatient.”
“You could tell that from the way he’s shifting around, though,” Ryse said, frowning.
“Yes, but you can feel it too,” I pointed out. “Just like I could feel the love between you and M’alex a moment ago. He absolutely adores you, you know. And I can tell you feel the same for him.”
His cheeks went abruptly red for some reason.
“Wait—are you telling me you can read my emotions too?”
“Not exactly,” I said. “I just felt the love flowing between you and your dragon. I’ve never felt anything from any human before unless they’re with a dragon. My father and F’lorn, his dragon…”
But I trailed off, not wanting to remember the awful rage that ruled our house, especially after my father started doing Wide Patrols and looking for any remaining Madlings. It had been a demotion that was beneath a member of a Great House, and he had never gotten over his fury.
“So you can only feel what I’m feeling when I’m having feelings for my dragon?” Ryse demanded. He seemed very focused on whether I could feel his emotions or not for some reason, I thought.
“Yes, I suppose so.” I shrugged. “I’ve never felt anything you’re feeling up until now.”
“Good,” he muttered, and his cheeks went red again. Was he blushing? Why? What emotions did he not want me to know about? I wished I knew but of course I couldn’t ask.
“Look, M’alex is saddled now.” I pointed to the leather saddle which was placed at the hollow between the last neck spine and the beginning of the dragon’s broad back. “Can we go up?”
“Yes, I guess so.” Ryse ran a hand through his hair and cast me a sidelong look, like he wasn’t sure what to think of me now. “What is M’alex thinking now?” he demanded abruptly.
“I don’t know—I can’t hear dragon thoughts—I can only feel their feelings.”
I was still surprised that other people didn’t have the same experience I did.
Auren had been able to feel the feelings of dragons too.
We’d often huddle together in bed at night when we were children, frightened of the rage coming from F’lorn.
So I’d just assumed that everyone could feel dragon emotions.
“Okay then—how is he feeling now?” Ryse asked.