34. Eradin
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
ERADIN
Iwoke to gray light seeping through the cavern’s darkness, the weight of Selira’s wing draped across my shoulders, and something soft beneath my cheek that hadn’t been there when I’d fallen asleep.
My body protested movement. Every muscle I owned made itself known, and my palms stung where blisters had formed, popped, and reformed around the red lines.
I shifted, and Selira’s wing rose, letting me sit up.
A bedroll sat beside my pack. Not the thin, worn kind commons used when we traveled, but actual padding thick enough to make the ground comfortable and keep the cold away.
Next to it, I found wrapped packages that looked like dried vegetables and bread.
A full water flask with condensation beading on the outside.
A pan and a magical lighter. Medical supplies in a leather pouch I definitely hadn’t brought with me.
Reece had the same setup beside him. Bedroll, food, supplies. So did Lyndie, who was already awake, running her fingers over the new blanket like she couldn’t quite believe it was real.
My gaze found Fen across the cavern, standing outside his tent. A servant approached him, and even from this distance I could read the tension in his shoulders when he gestured toward our section of camp.
He’d done this.
Last night he’d sat beside me in the sand and told me he had things he wanted to say to me. He’d burned his mother’s letter like a man cutting himself free from chains. And this morning he’d made sure three commons had what they needed.
The old wariness tried to surface, asking about the cost, what he might want in return, insisting this was a trap, but it felt hollow now. Habitual. A defense I’d built so well I kept reaching for it even when I didn’t need it.
My mother used to say the cruelest thing about the elite was that they saw us perfectly and chose not to care. But Fen kept looking, and every time he did, he chose differently than I’d been taught to expect.
That should terrify me, and maybe it did, a little. But mostly it made my chest lock and my hands uncertain where to settle.
Pride said I should refuse it all. Survival said I couldn’t afford to.
But deeper than either of those, a warmer, hopeful part of me whispered that this wasn’t about pride or survival at all. This was what it looked like when someone actually gave a damn whether you lived or died.
I tucked the supplies into my pack with care.
“Morning.”
I jumped at Lyndie’s voice. She’d walked over without me hearing. She settled cross-legged on the sand with her new bedroll in her lap. Her eyes flicked from the supplies to Fen and back to me.
“The prince is noticing you,” she said. “That’s either very good or very bad.”
I pulled the medical pouch closer, checking its contents.
Salve that would keep my burn from festering.
Bandages that might keep me alive long enough to see Tolross again.
Tincture for pain. I’d coated my burned foot last night, but knew I’d run out of the two tins of salve he’d given me before the burn fully healed.
“He’s not noticing anything,” I said, though I knew that was a lie.
“Right.” Her tone said she didn’t believe me. “Princes don’t arrange tactical positioning for commons out of boredom.”
Tactical positioning?
I met her gaze and held it.
She looked away, fussing with her new packages of food as if they required her full attention.
Reece groaned, sitting up and rubbing his back. His neck. His legs. His face went gray before color seeped back in.
“What’s this?” He stared at the supplies beside him with widening eyes.
“Someone has a conscience,” Lyndie said lightly.
Reece’s throat worked. His fingers trembled when he picked up the water flask, turning it over.
“They see us,” he whispered. “Someone actually sees us and they sent help.” Hope lit his face.
I looked at Lyndie. She looked at me.
We both nodded.
Reece didn’t need to know who’d provided the supplies. Let him believe the kingdom had a heart. He could carry the feeling into whatever was coming next. It might be the only thing that kept him going.
His hands trembled as he unwrapped the meat. Silent tears tracked down his cheeks, and his shoulders shook with the effort of keeping the sound locked inside.
I dragged my eyes away. Some grief was too private to witness, even when it was sitting a short distance away on black sand.
Lyndie opened a packet of dried fruit. “Eat. We don’t know when we’ll get another chance.”
I ate because she was right.
A horn blast shattered the lull.
Riders scrambled to their feet. Dragons lifted their heads.
A herald strode into view, her robes shimmering with spelled fabric.
“Today’s trial requires pairing,” she called out, her voice magically amplified. “Riders will be paired by their dragons.”
We gaped at each other.
“Dragons must approach each other, touch noses, and form a temporary alliance. The trial begins when the last pair forms.” She paused, letting that sink in. “There are no other rules.”
Chills wracked my frame. No other rules meant anything could happen. Anything would happen.
The herald disappeared, transporting herself out of the cavern.
Lyndie, Reece, and I leaped to our feet and started packing our supplies away.
The nobles were equally feverish.
“Pair with Blair’s dragon, she’s fastest,” a lady said.
“No, strength matters more.”
“Formation flying requires…”
Lady Severine stood at the center of her team, directing the others like a general. She pointed at riders, assigning pairings, her voice cutting through the noise. They were treating this like a social dance. Choose your partner, follow the steps, and make sure you perform it well.
I stared at Reece and Lyndie.
“We pair together,” Lyndie said. “Keep it simple.”
Reece nodded. “Makes sense.”
Except there were three of us.
I shook my head. “I don’t think Selira will be willing to pair with one of the other dragons.”
Longing snapped through our bond so sharp it stole my breath.
Him, Selira said. Her certainty bypassed language. Mine wants him.
She was already moving, her attention locked across the cavern with an intensity that made my chest swell.
“No,” I said, seeing where she was headed. “Selira, don’t—”
Her satisfaction hummed through me. You chose yours. I chose mine.
Elite dragons had gathered in the open space between camps.
They circled each other cautiously, sniffing, testing, waiting for their riders’ commands or whatever they needed to guide them.
Some paired quickly, strategic matches their riders had planned.
Others hesitated, confused about what was expected without an elite forcing the choice.
Selira stomped through them all, making them scatter, their nostrils flaring. Wild one. Danger. Get away.
But one dragon didn’t move, one with midnight-black scales with silver tips. Sleek and powerful, he made the other dragons look unfinished.
Aristus.
I raced after her. “Selira, don’t do this.”
She took flight, soaring toward him.
Fen stood a short distance away from his dragon, his face carefully blank. He wasn’t making any effort to stop this.
The two dragons met.
Everyone stopped talking. I swore some even stopped breathing.
Selira and Aristus touched noses. Then they exhaled smoke at the same time. It swirled together and drifted up toward the ceiling.
My lungs forgot how to pull in air.
Lady Severine’s face blanched before color flushed it scarlet. She strode toward Fen, her hands on the hilts of the blades strapped to her sides. “Your Highness, I thought you and I would—”
Fenian glared at her.
She stopped mid-step, and her mouth snapped shut. She took a step backward.
The other riders whispered behind their hands. A few didn’t bother hiding their disgust.
“Let him do what he wants,” someone said, loud enough to carry. “He’s contaminated.”
Lyndie moved closer to me, Reece right with her. He snatched a stick up off the ground and held it by his side. He couldn’t use it to protect me from the nobles, but I appreciated that he was willing to try when commons had been put to death for less.
“Well,” Lyndie said, her voice bright. “This just got interesting.” She nudged Reece’s shoulder, gesturing toward where her dragon and his were touching noses. “Looks like it’s you and me for this challenge.”
Reece sent me an eyebrow-raised look. “Your dragon chose the prince’s.”
“Yes,” I said.
“That’s…”
“Yes.”
I walked toward where Selira stood with Aristus.
Fen approached from the other side.
We stopped with our dragon’s snouts between us, close enough I could hear his breathing. Controlled, but not steady. People breathed like that when they were trying not to show something.
He wore clean leathers. I still wore yesterday’s, stiff with dried sweat and dragon smoke. The old Eradin would’ve felt small. The new Eradin said fuck it. He’d sat next to me last night, and I hadn’t been dressed any finer.
“It appears our dragons made a choice,” he said.
Selira pressed closer to Aristus, satisfaction purring through our bond.
“We should discuss strategy,” he said.
My pulsed jumped in a way I didn’t have time to examine. “Survival is the strategy.”
Our dragons rumbled to each other, low sounds that vibrated through the ground beneath our feet. Contentment. The sounds animals made when they felt safe.
“Your dragon is happy,” I said, because someone had to fill the silence before it swallowed us both.
His mouth curved before he caught it. “Yours too.”
The almost-smile made it impossible to breathe.
“Thank you for the supplies,” I said.
His throat worked. “You don’t have to—”
“I know I don’t have to.” I met his eyes. “But you did something kind when you didn’t need to. So. Thank you.”
His posture loosened. “You’re welcome.”
The silence between us felt different than it had yesterday. Less like a wall and more like a threshold we were both standing at, trying to decide whether to step through.
A herald’s voice cut through the cavern before I could figure it out. “All pairs are formed. What you need will be delivered to you. What you do with it, and how, decides whether you live. The trial begins now.”
We scrambled for our packs.
I forced myself to focus on checking my gear. Not on how the prince had looked last night when he’d burned his mother’s letter or the gentle way he’d been caring for Aristus.
Around us, other pairs were mounting.
I climbed onto Selira’s back, the motion a bit easier today. My thighs settled into place, and my hands found the spike between her shoulders.
Fenian mounted Aristus with the grace of someone who’d been doing it since childhood. No wasted movement. Except his hands shook when he gripped the spike. He’d find this a challenge without the harness.
Thirteen doors opened in the cavern wall, stone grinding against stone, revealing darkness beyond. Runes had been carved into the archways, and they glowed with magic I suspected was as old as the kingdom.
I spied a narrow corridor through the closest door, lit by something that wasn’t quite light.
Other pairs were already entering.
Screaming started almost immediately.
More screaming.
Then silence, followed by the boom as their doors shut behind them.
Lyndie and Reece flew past us toward one of the few remaining openings. Reece looked back.
“Good luck,” he cried.
It sounded like goodbye.
Fen’s hand lifted toward me, but dropped back to his side. But I felt the almost-touch anyway, a phantom pressure on my arm that burned much too hot.
Selira’s wings snapped out, and she leaped into the air.