Chapter 32
EDEN
Eight Months Later
“And what do we call this?” I asked the group of eager-looking students as I gestured to the fake wound that had been laid on the worktable in the brand-new exam room.
One of the students’ hands shot up so quickly that she almost took an eye out.
“Yes?” I said.
“A first-degree burn,” she said, lowering her hand and looking pleased with herself. “Because it’s a superficial injury that only affects the outer layer of skin.”
“Excellent. And what—”
“That one is a third-degree burn!” the girl said, practically bursting. “It’s injured the epidermis and the dermis and even eaten into the fat and muscle.”
I gave an approving nod, eyeing Talani. She made a note on her clipboard.
It had taken months for Ember Ridge to finally rebuild the infirmary. While we’d waited for construction to be completed, we operated a temporary infirmary out of the Wiggly Dragon Tooth which had miraculously survived the Wretch.
Now the infirmary was bigger and better than ever, which meant we were in need of some new employees. The first order of business was replacing Reo, who’d gone off to try his luck at the rider academy one more time.
After surviving the run-in with the Wretch, he was eager to give dragon riding another shot. We’d all wished him the best when he got called up by the academy. And besides being exhausted by the training, his last letter had been largely positive.
In his absence, we’d been sent a small group of burntenders soon to graduate from a nearby school, hoping to find a couple who suited roles at the infirmary.
“She’s a little eager, isn’t she?” Matty murmured, converging as we assessed the students.
“The way she’s swinging her arm around, I’m worried she’s going to end up punching someone in the nose,” Talani whispered. “But she does know her stuff.”
Matty drummed his fingers against his lips. “How well do you think she can keep a secret?”
“And this one,” the girl said suddenly, holding up another fake wound, “is a fourth degree! Look at this piece of bone here, barely hanging on.” She flicked it, and one of the students behind her doubled over, hand clamped to his mouth.
“Bucket!” Seraphine crowed, pointing from behind her desk.
The boy stumbled forward, making a horrible retching sound, and we all winced.
Matty grimaced as he lowered his hand from his eyes. “Did he miss the bucket?”
“Definitely missed the bucket,” I said, frowning at the sight.
“Well, at least that takes one of them out of the running,” Talani said, crossing a name off the list on her clipboard.
The over-eager burntender leaned over, patting the boy on the back while inspecting his mess. “Oh!” she said brightly. “Did you have the chowder for lunch? I think I can see some chunks of potato in there. What did you think? I’ve been meaning to try it.”
The boy turned a concerning shade of green.
“Out of the way! Go on. Mind your feet,” Seraphine called, parting the students with a wave of her mop. “Clean up crew, coming through.”
There was a knock, and a young woman pushed the front door open, tangles of dark curls piled in a loose bun on the top of her head. She blinked around at the chaos, nose twitching at the smell. “Is this a bad time?”
“Don’t mind the mess,” Seraphine called, waving her in. “How can we help you today? Dragon burn? Midair mishap? There’s a form on my desk where you can jot down the details of the event.”
The woman wriggled her fingers. “I was just hoping you might have a bandage. I’ve been singed a little. I ran into one of those tiny dragons.”
“A wyrm?” Seraphine said. “Ugh, the pesky little things are always flinging sparks.”
The woman caught her lip between her teeth, laughing. “My bigger issue seems to be that I can’t get rid of it.” She pushed the door open wider, revealing a small, wriggling wyrm, no bigger than a loaf of bread. It sat on the steps like it was waiting to be invited inside.
“Shoo!” Seraphine said, brandishing her mop. “Go on. Shoo!”
The wyrm opened its mouth, threatening sparks.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Seraphine said, dragging the woman inside and closing the door on the wyrm. “We’ll get you patched up and on your way.”
“Why don’t you follow one of our burntenders?” I said.
Talani stepped forward, picking up a form from Seraphine’s desk as she went. “I’ll be looking after you today. My name’s Talani.”
“Ricky,” the woman said, following Talani into an exam room.
Seraphine started mopping again, huffing when there was another knock at the door. This time a shaggy-haired young man popped his head into the infirmary.
“How can we help you?” Seraphine called, barely lifting her eyes from the floor. “Dragon burn? Midair mishap?”
“Uh…” He hesitated. “I’ve actually just misplaced my… gloves. I was wondering if they were here?”
I perked up at his question. Seraphine stopped mopping and glanced my way, eyebrows arching dramatically. I scowled at her. Stop being so obvious!
“Eden, missing gloves?” she said. “Think you can handle that?”
“Matty,” I said, turning to him, keeping my expression neutral. “Can you please finish up today’s exams?”
“Sure thing,” he said, rubbing his hands together as he gathered up the students again. “Next we move on to the wonderful world of fractures. Who here has ever used a splint?”
An eager hand shot into the air again.
I bit my lip and shook my head at the sight, then turned to the shaggy-haired visitor. “If you want to follow me this way,” I said, waving him through a door. “I think we have what you’re looking for.”
He trailed after me into the storeroom, and I locked the door behind us.
“So, uh…” He wrung his hands together, looking round awkwardly at the stacks of linens and bandages.
He lowered his voice, checking over his shoulder like someone might magically appear.
“I was told you could make me some armor for dragon riding. Armor that doesn’t burn.
” He dug into the pocket of his trousers and put a handful of gold coins in my hand. “I can pay whatever the cost.”
I gave him half of his money back. “That’ll do.” I rolled a carpet back along the wooden floor, giving the boards a thunk with my boot. A moment later, a hatch opened, and I spotted Vaela’s narrowed, curious expression.
I crouched next to her. “We’ve got a customer.”
“He knew the password?”
I nodded. “Asked for gloves.”
Vaela threw the hatch back, revealing a short wooden ladder. “Come on down,” she said brightly to the stranger.
The man gave me a curious look, then followed her through the hatch. I waited until they were gone, then turned around and tucked the coins into a large jar hidden on one of the shelves behind a pile of old linen. It had been labeled Lake Fund.
I grinned as I struggled to fit the coins inside.
“Eden?” Vaela called.
I jerked, heart racing as I shoved the jar to the back of the shelf. “Coming!”
I smoothed my hands down my skirts, then followed them into the workshop.
At the bottom of the ladder, warm, yellow lanternlight filled a massive room that was brimming with benches and long tables and tall wooden posts that held half-finished chestplates.
Piles of dragon scales adorned the tables, sorted by size and color, and jars of salve filled shelves along the wall.
“New order?” Nisse asked, looking up with interest from the tedious task of painting dragon scales with the protective layer. She smiled at the man, gesturing to a pedestal. “Step over here, my friend. Let’s get you measured.”
Vaela tossed her the measuring tape. “What were you thinking?” she asked the rider. “A simple chestplate or the works?”
He held his arms out for Nisse to measure his wingspan. “Let’s go with the works. I wouldn’t mind a new helmet and gloves.”
“We’re also trialing a new lightweight shin guard design if you’re interested,” Nisse said.
Vaela leaned over and stared into a nearby bucket. “We’re running low on spit.” She eyed me. “Want to help me with this?”
I nodded, following her back up the ladder, the giant metal bucket held between us. We closed the hatch, replaced the carpet, and exited the storeroom, cutting through the back door to the woods located at the edge of the infirmary.
As we slipped between a pair of evergreens, we found a familiar, worn path, following it deeper into the trees.
“Hey, watch it!” a voice called in the distance. “I felt that bloody fireball skimming my head!”
A rumbling sound like a chuckle issued from between the trees. Vaela and I pressed on down a path, coming to a clearing in the woods where Min and Dalton were testing out some newer armor prototypes, doing quality control on the fire resistance.
“We have come for spit!” Vaela called, lifting her side of the bucket.
Min looked pleased to see us, rushing over to greet Vaela with a chuff that sent steam curling the dark hairs at her temples.
Vaela gave her snout a good rub as we dropped the bucket at her feet. “Fill ’er up, please.”
Min stared at the bucket, sucked in a whistling breath, gargled, then produced a wad of saliva. It splashed into the bucket, ricocheting everywhere.
Vaela winced. “Okay, gross and unnecessary. What did we say about being gentle?”
Min nudged her, making a disgruntled sound, and Vaela staggered, laughing. “I’m just kidding. Yes, I know this spit is saving lives across Cai’amar.” She patted Min’s snout. “It’s very nice spit.”
Something suddenly rustled in the blackberry bushes that surrounded the clearing, and we all jumped.
“The armor,” I hissed. Dalton darted for the prototype, scrambling to hide it.
Min made an odd sound, tilted her head, then surged toward the bush, her forked tongue poking at something. She stuffed her head into the leaves. When she pulled it back out again, she dragged some small, squirming thing with her.
Min deposited it on the ground. She lifted her head, and sitting there on the forest floor was a pudgy little dragon, no taller than my knee. The dragon rolled onto her back at the sight of us, kicking her tiny legs, clearly used to humans.
Vaela cooed at the dragon, stepping closer. She pawed at Vaela’s outstretched hand like a puppy.
“Aren’t you a little menace,” she said, voice filled with affection.
“Careful,” Dalton said, coming over to inspect the baby dragon. She got a hold of the laces on his boot, tugging until he laughed.
“Oh, she’s harmless,” Vaela said. “Still has her baby teeth. And her wings aren’t even developed.”
“What kind of dragon is she?” I asked, inching closer.
“She looks like a Half Moon, doesn’t she?” Vaela said, crouching down to rub her scaly belly. One half of her body was dusky blue, like the night sky. The other half was an off-white shade; her scales glittered like they’d been inlaid with precious stones.
“I’ve never seen a Half Moon in these parts,” Dalton said. “Aren’t they usually up North where it’s cold?” He poked her pudgy little belly and the dragon suddenly changed color, mimicking the brown shade of his boot.
I blinked down at the sight. Incredible.
“This one seems to like it down here,” Vaela said. The dragon rolled around at Dalton’s feet, pawing at him for attention. He grinned, playing with her, curling his fingers back to avoid her nipping teeth.
“And she’s obviously a fan of people,” Vaela noted. “Which means someone’s clearly been feeding her.”
“What do we do?” I asked.
Min made a sound that was almost concerned. She nibbled at the sleeve of Vaela’s tunic, tugging a bit. The baby dragon changed color again, turning the exact same shade as Min’s silver scales.
Vaela sighed. “I suppose we can’t just leave her out here. If she’s already grown used to humans, she won’t fare well alone, especially if she runs up against a wild dragon.”
The baby dragon shifted again, scales taking on a dark, purplish hue as she pawed at Dalton.
“You gonna take care of her?” he asked Vaela.
Vaela shook her head, lips twisting into a smirk. “Stars, no. My dragon wrangling days are over. And that includes baby dragons.” She reached down and scooped the dragon into her arms, then handed it over to Dalton. “She’s yours to look after.”
His eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
“Maybe this was why you could never bond a dragon,” Vaela said, nodding down to the Half Moon. “Maybe she was meant for you.”
Dalton stared down at her in awe, then his eyes darted around, locking on the bushes. “I’m gonna call her… Blackberry.”
The dragon stuck her forked tongue out between tiny, spiked teeth.
“I think she likes it,” I said, grinning at the adoring look on Dalton’s face.
He put Blackberry back on the ground, and she pawed at Min’s giant claws, then tripped over her large toes. Min’s tail thumped the ground, sending a tremor through my bones. She seemed pleased at the new addition, even if Blackberry was still rather small.
“Let’s get this back to the workshop,” I said to Vaela, indicating the bucket of saliva. “Nisse is probably wondering what’s keeping us.”
Vaela took her side of the bucket, I took mine, and we hoisted it up, walking a lot slower now that it was full.
“You think Dalton and Blackberry will bond like you and Min?” I asked as we headed for the infirmary.
“No guarantees,” Vaela said. “But they could both use some looking after. Why not each other?”
When we reached the storeroom, I locked the door behind us, then yanked back on the bucket. Vaela stumbled a bit, glancing over her shoulder. “You okay? Need a break before we go down?”
I nodded and we set the bucket on the floor. I darted to the shelf.
“Thought you needed a break?” Vaela said.
“Not really. There was just something I wanted to give you.” I heaved that secret jar off the shelf, turning and dropping it into Vaela’s hands. She sagged a bit under the weight.
“Stars, Eden. What is this?” She stared down at the jar, mouth open. “Lake Fund?” Her eyes widened. “Wait, are you serious?”
I nodded, hardly containing my glee as I clapped my hands together under my chin.
“Everyone agreed to pool the money from our first year of armor sales in order to buy the lake from Cyrus. But we raised the funds a lot quicker than we’d anticipated.
” Word of our special, fire-resistant armor was spreading among rider circles, and one chestplate at a time, we were making a difference.
Giving riders the protection they deserved.
“I suggest taking Seraphine with you to do the negotiations. I think Cyrus is a little bit afraid of her.”
Vaela laughed, blinking hard like she was fighting a wave of tears. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything,” I told her, taking the jar and putting it back on the shelf. I turned and wrapped my arms around her neck. “It’s the least we could all do for Min.”
She shook her head. “You’re incredible, you know that?”
I pressed up on my toes, lips hovering in front of hers. “Okay, you can say that, I suppose.”
“I love you, Eden. More and—”
“—the most,” I finished. And then I kissed her the way I planned to keep kissing her for the rest of our lives.