Mira
I’ve been training for this day for years. It’s finally here, but as Zihnal would have it, the Green Clubtail I spotted at Presentation is nowhere to be found.
Teine. That’s what the Threshing cards show as his name. I think. It’s not like staring during Presentation is a good idea, but I took one look at him and simply knew.
The forest is a sea of color as I drag my hand across my sweaty forehead, shoving back the strands of my short brown hair and staring out from the highest branch of the tallest tree I could find.
Wandering for the last hour has gotten me nowhere, and since Brennan bonded in a tree, I figured it couldn’t hurt to climb one.
The visibility would be incredible if not for the fact that the dragons fit under the smaller trees, their branches blocking the view, but I’ve caught sight of a few browns, a couple of oranges, and even glimpsed the one blue willing to bond this year, but not a single green.
“Where are you?” I mutter into the wind, refusing to give in to the frustration festering in my stomach.
Brennan made this part sound simple in the book he left me, but my perfect older brother and I have different definitions of “easy.” If I didn’t love him so much, the effortless grace with which he excels at everything would annoy the shit out of me.
My heart clenches and my fingers flex on the coarse bark of the tree as I glance southward, toward Tyrrendor and the front lines of that province’s rebellion.
Dunne, watch over my brother.
There’s no price I wouldn’t pay to protect his back, but I have to trust that the goddess of war has him covered.
I hope Fen Riorson burns for attempting to fracture our kingdom.
The duke’s frustration over mining mandates for Talladium—one of the minerals we need to power our wards—is understandable, but that resource is only found in Tyrrendor.
I even sympathize with his anger over his province’s disproportionate conscription rates.
But to risk the safety of all Navarrian citizens by seceding is unforgivable.
Without the province of Tyrrendor, our enemies in Poromiel will overrun our borders and we’ll lose the war we’ve been fighting for centuries.
Countless civilians will die if we don’t quell the rebellion.
Don’t think about it. That’s pretty much my mantra when it comes to the overwhelming fear that claws at my throat when I remember that Brennan is at the front, even though he only graduated a few months ago.
He should be at a safer mid-guard post, but menders—especially ones as powerful as Brennan—are rare.
Our wounded need all the help they can get.
At least he’s under Mom’s command in Luceras.
Violet and I might be dispensable to her, but she’d move the world to protect Brennan.
No doubt Dad is keeping Violet safe with the scribes at the outpost, which would explain why I didn’t get a pre-Threshing visit like Brennan did.
It definitely puts my place in the family into perspective.
“See anything?” Cowan Zana calls up from the base of the tree, jarring me from my thoughts.
I cringe and glance toward the treetops. His voice is too loud for comfort.
“Not since the blue,” I answer back to my favorite squadmate in a much lower, dragon-friendly tone.
We’re already risking their anger by staying together for the past hour, but I wasn’t going to force Cowan out on his own when he’d asked me to stay by his side.
We’ve already lost four first-years out of our squad, and I refuse to let Cowan be the fifth.
“No reds?” he asks, quieter this time.
“I promise I’ll tell you.” I hold on to the trunk with one hand and unbutton my collar with the other.
October is usually pretty mild at Basgiath, but today is hot enough to make me wonder if Mom might be visiting from her post in Luceras and using her weather-wielding signet to fuck with me.
It wouldn’t be the first time she’s made things harder to test me, as if wearing her last name on my uniform wasn’t a heavy enough challenge to carry.
Then again, at least her three years in command of the Riders Quadrant were during Brennan’s time and not mine. Things could always be worse. She could be stationed here, breathing down my neck with the constant reminder that Sorrengails always rise to the rank of wingleader.
A scream punctures the quiet of the forest to the north, and I turn my head just in time to see a stream of fire engulfing a small clearing in that general direction. Yep. Things could definitely be worse.
A tugging sensation in my chest pulls my attention a hundred yards to the west, where one tree sways after another, as if a dragon comes this way.
“Is that you?” I whisper, hope sparking in my chest.
Move, my instincts scream, and hair rises on the back of my arm.
I obey the feeling immediately, scurrying down the tree and slipping more than once when my short sword catches on the branches.
Violet would laugh if she could see me now, fumbling at one of the things she excels at.
She’d kick my ass at academics, too, but the physicality of the Riders Quadrant would end her sweet smile in five seconds.
Thank gods my little sister is studying to be a scribe like Dad and won’t ever know the fear that’s taken up residence in my veins since the moment I stepped onto the parapet.
“There’s something coming.” I jump the last six feet and land on the leaf-covered ground near where Cowan waits, bending my knees to absorb the impact, then brush my hands off on my pants.
“A red?” he asks, hope shining in his dark-brown eyes.
“I couldn’t see the scale color.” Definitely not saying I think it’s Teine, because there are few things I hate more than being wrong.
“Ugh.” He throws back his head and groans, speckled sunlight catching the dots of sweat on the warm brown skin of his cheeks.
“You’re welcome to climb yourself, if you think you can do a better job,” I offer, gesturing toward the trunk as I scour the tree line, hoping for a glimpse of whatever has my instincts on alert.
“I can’t help my height.” He jumps, reaching for the closest limb, but comes up short, his fingertips just brushing the bottom of the branch before he lands.
“Trust me, if I could spontaneously sprout another couple of inches and catch up to you, I would.” He flashes a quick grin.
“Then maybe I’d be the best in our year.
Or at least I’d give you some competition. ”
“I’m not the—”
Branches break nearby, and we both swing our heads to the left.
Please be Teine.
A ruby-red snout appears through the trees, low to the ground in combat position as the scorpiontail passes by about forty feet away, paying us no heed. I drop my gaze to the forest floor just in case the red looks our way, and every muscle in my body locks.
Fear drums on my heart with an increasing tempo and skitters down my spine.
It is one thing to see the enormous dragons with their rippling scales, intimidating spikes, and fatal talons, even as close as they were after Parapet and Presentation.
It’s quite another to have one stalk by and know today is the day it either bonds you or kills you.
Given that the only connection I’ve felt has been to Teine, this red is likely to incinerate me if I give the slightest offense.
Cowan, on the other hand…
“There’s your red,” I whisper, glancing his way.
“Yeah it is.” He nods, and his shoulders rise and fall rapidly as he stares directly at the Red Scorpiontail. “Gods, this is really it.”
“Be careful—”
“I’ve got this,” he promises with a quick burst of a smile. “Even you can’t protect me from fate.” His bow bounces against his spine as he takes off into the woods, chasing after the dragon. “Good luck, Sorrengail!”
“See you on the flight field.”
Leaves rustle and I turn westward, gazing toward the branches swaying in the distance. That same arm-prickling sensation comes back twice as strong as the movement in the canopy draws closer.
Move.
My heart races, but I honor the intuition again, walking forward into the wide space between trees and stepping into full sunlight. The move exposes my back, and I can’t help but wonder if this dragon wants to see if I’ll make myself vulnerable for its favor.
I do, instantly questioning if the decision will put me on tomorrow’s death roll.
The treetops directly in front of me part, and my stomach lurches into my throat as the giant green appears twenty feet away, his wings folded in to fit through the forest.
It’s him. Teine.
The dragon lowers his massive head, swiveling it side to side like a hunter-green snake. A snake with legs. And claws. And teeth. Saliva drips from his fangs as he bares said teeth and stalks forward.
It takes every ounce of self-discipline I have not to retreat.
Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Is this happening? Or am I about to die because my instincts aren’t as stellar as I think they are and this isn’t my dragon? Kind of wish I had General Melgren’s signet—the ability to see the outcome of any battle—but I’m going to have to go on instinct here.
His low rumble rattles my sword in its scabbard, and I remind myself to breathe. Dying of hypoxia would be ridiculously embarrassing given all the other respectable forms of demise going around out here today.
Wait. I’m not supposed to look him in the eyes, right?
No. That’s reds. No…greens, too. I drop my gaze to his claws. Shit. It’s something about supplication and waiting for approval.
Godsdamn it. Violet would know the answer. No amount of stress would ever diminish the billions of facts that girl keeps in her head. She has an endearingly weird habit of spouting off information to keep herself calm in situations where she’d be better off backing down for her own safety.
Backing down. I inhale sharply. That’s it.
Never back down from a green. That’s what Kaori lectured.