Chapter 5
Zenevieve
From my cross-legged place on the floor, the dragonmaster looks as imposing as the highest spire of the castle when I look up at him. “What did you just say, dragonmaster?”
“Did you see how Minta ran straight to you? It’s a sign that she wants to bond with you.”
I look at the hatchling in astonishment. She stares back at me, and then she buffets her snout on the underside of my chin. “You can tell that she wants me to be her rider? Already? How?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “With the two of you, I just can.”
I can feel the weight of her little body through her two taloned forelegs that are pressing against my chest. Sparkling green eyes are gazing into mine. Her scales are so tiny, but they’ll grow bigger as she does.
Minta is my dragon? She’s choosing me?
I picture her as a fully grown dragon with moonlight gleaming on her black scales, and my own hair turned black and rippling in a midnight breeze. Emotion suddenly wells up from my chest into my eyes, and I burst into tears.
“I’m sorry. This probably isn’t how a dragonrider is supposed to behave.” I mop the tears from my face, feeling myself turning red from embarrassment.
Stesha hunkers down before me. He doesn’t smile at me, but his expression is kind. “Lots of dragonriders cry when they realize they’ve been chosen. Dragons are emotional creatures. Do you like her?”
“Like her? I love her. How soon can I ride her?”
“It will be a while, so you’ll have to be patient. Minta has a lot of growing to do before her wings can carry her own weight, let alone yours.”
“How long is a while, dragonmaster?”
He considers the dragon. “In a few weeks, she’ll be a young fledgling, and she’ll take her first flight. When she’s an older fledgling she should be big enough to carry you, which will be a few weeks after that. Young dragons grow quickly.”
He grasps her wing, gently spreads it, and points out all the places it will lengthen and strengthen over the coming weeks. Minta sits patiently in my lap the entire time, and she even seems to be listening to the dragonmaster’s explanations.
“Now that you’re a dragonrider, you may go wherever Minta goes,” Stesha tells me.
“That includes the dragongrounds and the nesting caves, but remember that there’s order among dragons that Minta is still learning.
You both need to stay away from the center of the flare, unless the Alphas are sounding alarm calls. ”
“I can actually go onto the dragongrounds? I can visit Minta whenever I like?”
“Of course. No one is allowed to keep you apart.”
I have never heard more beautiful words.
Did you hear that, Minta? We can see each other anytime we want. I speak the words silently in my head, not expecting a reply, but to my surprise, I feel a presence in my head that’s not my own. Minta doesn’t speak, but I feel her happiness.
Stesha gets to his feet, and Minta tumbles from my lap and begins to explore the room.
I’m overcome with so much emotion again that I throw my arms around Stesha’s waist and hold him close. He stiffens, his arms held away from our bodies as if he doesn’t know what to do with them. It’s like no one’s ever hugged him before, but that’s such a silly thought.
“Thank you,” I whisper into his shirt. He’s as warm as a dragon, and very solid.
He squeezes my shoulder. “It’s not me. Minta is the one who chose you.”
Stesha smells as crisp as a winter’s day, richly laced with ash, smoke, sulfur, and the perfume of crocuses blooming in the snow.
There are intriguing things in his scent that have me burrowing closer to him.
A sense of safety and comfort. The sweetness of recognizing someone who’s just like me. But also an aching, hollow feeling.
I frown. Loneliness? Stesha is lonely?
My arms tighten around his waist. If he’s lonely, I’ll be his friend.
“Zenevieve, let the poor man go,” Father says with a laugh.
Reluctantly, I let go of Stesha. He explains that he has to take Minta back to the nesting caves, and so I say goodbye to the little dragon, and he carries her outside.
I run to the window and watch as he strides up the street, the little dragon perched on his shoulder and gazing back at me.
I watch them both until they’re out of sight.
I feel a new sense of confidence as I walk around the city and the castle.
No longer do I have to loiter at the edges of the dragongrounds, feeling timid and awkward.
I can step confidently onto them, though I admit that I broke out into a cold sweat the first time, wondering if any dragonriders or dragons were about to challenge me.
But I’m allowed to be here. I’ve been chosen.
Today, I skirt around the flare on my way to the nesting caves, and as soon as I reach them, Minta comes bounding out to me, followed a moment later by her brother, Shar.
They both twine around my legs and push their snouts into my palms in greeting.
I’m delighted that Minta’s brother is as friendly toward me as she is, and I hope Shar chooses one of my friends to bond with.
Onderz and Mirelle are both hoping to be chosen by dragons.
I spend a happy morning playing with the hatchlings, running up and down by the nesting caves while they romp beside me.
The following morning I arrive at the dragongrounds to find Onderz and Mirelle already there, and Onderz is proudly patting a dragon’s flank. When he sees me, he waves me over.
“Zenevieve, I’ve been chosen as well,” he tells me. The dragon is a sleek, dangerous-looking young Alpha with black and white scales.
“I’m so pleased for you! What’s his name?”
“Zeith,” Onderz says proudly. “He’s still growing, but the dragonmaster says that one day he’ll be as big as Nilak. We’re going to take our first flight together this afternoon.”
I feel almost as excited for him as I did the day Minta chose me. A small, pale yellow dragon is peeking out from behind Zeith, and she nuzzles Mirelle’s shoulder.
“Who’s this, Mirelle?” I ask her.
“Oh, um, this is Dianthe,” Mirelle says, turning pink. “She’s Zeith’s mate, or she will be once they’ve both fully matured, but the dragonmaster says they’ve chosen each other already. She’s an Omega.”
Mirelle turns pinker still, and I’m puzzled why she’s embarrassed until I see the shy smile she gives Onderz and the grin he shoots her in return. Something tells me that Onderz and Mirelle are going to be mated one day as well. “Is Dianthe going to be your dragon?”
Mirelle strokes the yellow dragon’s head, and Dianthe closes her eyes in bliss. “I-I think so. Isn’t she pretty?”
“She’s as lovely as a summer’s day. This is so exciting that we’ve been chosen by dragons. Has Zabriel been chosen too?”
“Not yet, but you know who he’s hoping for,” Onderz replies.
We all turn and look toward the center of the flare where the red-eyed Scourge is sitting at Pollex’s right side. The prince who is waiting to be king. I hope Scourge, or another dragon, chooses Zabriel soon so the four of us can all go flying together.
I’m there the day Minta takes her first flight around the dragongrounds. Now she’s as big as a pony, but long and tapered, and her wingspan is as wide as she is long. After chirruping at me excitedly, she leaps into the air, zooms over my head, and over Tish’s head as well.
“She’ll be as fast as a wyvern when she’s full-grown,” Tish exclaims, speaking of the fast, silvery mounts that the wingrunners ride. “What a beauty she is.”
“Isn’t she?” I gush, following Minta with my eyes. She moves like a fish through water, weaving between the dragons at the edges of the flare.
When she lands in front of me with a graceful flutter to the ground, I wrap my arms around her.
How was it? I ask with my cheek pressed against her neck.
Minta replies by letting me feel the sensation of wind passing over her wings. I close my eyes, and I get lost in it, yearning to feel it for myself.
Soon I’ll be stronger, Minta tells me.
That night, I dream I’m a dragon, and I’m soaring over the clouds, feeling just how Minta felt.
Meanwhile, as Minta grows, Mother encourages me to try other things.
I half-heartedly learn to cook, sew, garden, and write in a silly, curly script with ink and quill, but I’m forever abandoning whatever task is before me when I hear a dragon flying overhead.
I burn two cakes while staring out the window.
Thankfully, the ghastly ruffled dress that Mother bought never makes another appearance.
Minta and Shar are often together and love to approach the other dragonriders.
They’re curious about everyone and seem to adore having their scales stroked.
I feel proud every time someone gasps in delight over how stunning the siblings are, or someone exclaims over how swiftly and elegantly they fly.
Now that I’m officially a dragonrider, I’m also a trainee in the dragon army, which means I have to learn battle arts.
Sword fighting lessons at the castle barracks are a great deal more fun than needlepoint and calligraphy.
My arms and legs feel like jelly after every lesson, and my knuckles and shins are covered in bruises.
We train with the City Guard recruits, and while many of the boys and girls are only fifteen like me, a lot of them have been working in the fields or with stock animals, so they’re already strong.
I have to train hard to catch up. Our trainer says that at least I’m quick on my feet and “not too stupid,” which I suppose is almost a compliment.
The princes haven’t yet been chosen by dragons, but they have to take sword fighting lessons because of their rank.
I enjoy practicing with Zabriel, but I loathe when I’m pitted against Emmeric.
Either he knocks me down when I’m not looking, complains that his practice sword is the wrong weight, or that the sun is in his eyes.