Stafford furrowed his brows. “But there’s only four of us and five types of dragonet left. If we team up, we can only guard one group, and if we separate, whoever gets to meet Asproceros might be killed.”
“Two groups,” said Muti from the bottom of the stairs.
I gave him a sharp nod. “Thanks. You and your riders will make for a strong second team.”
He beamed. “We will guard the red dragons.”
We continued along the terrace in the cool weather toward the mess hall. The scent of dragon mint filled the air, helping me clear my head. Two groups still weren’t enough to guard the dragonets. As much as I wanted to stand on a table in front of everyone and announce my intentions, Master Fosco would probably expel me for attempting an unauthorized mission.
“And Asporceros might hear you if he’s sneaking about,” said Fyrian.
“Ugh. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“He could be anywhere.”
We stepped through the barrier of the mess hall, where the servers turned the hand crank of a giant spit containing dozens of whiskered catfish. The scent of garlic and paprika filled the air, making saliva pool in my mouth. We picked up our plates and joined the line of warriors waiting for fish.
“When will we ambush Asproceros?” asked Muti.
I glanced around for signs of Master Fosco, but no-one sat at the head table.
“They’re all at an emergency Council of Dragons meeting,” said Fyrian.
“Are you there?”
“I can’t miss it,” she said. “That ogre took my friends.”
A sigh slid from my lips. Only a few weeks ago, Fyrian was a dragonet like the ones taken. She had to be frantic with worry. “We’ll catch him and get them back.”
“And I’ll help.”
“Bluford?” asked Muti.
“He gets like that when deep in conversation with Fyrian,” said Stafford.
I raised my head. “Sorry, I’m back now. Let’s watch out for Asproceros every night until he’s caught.”
My classmates and the dragon rider cadets grunted their agreement. Soon, we reached the start of the line and got healthy portions of spit-roasted fish and chargrilled vegetables. Rufus led the way to the cadet tables and sat next to his brothers, Brunus and Virens, the pair who had carried me into King Magnar’s sky commander tournament with the rest of the drogott team. I gave them a nod of greeting and sat next to Stafford.
“I spoke to Evolene last night,” he said with a smile. “She and Master Jesper are working on something to counteract Asproceros’ invisibility cloak.”
“Good.” I gave him a shoulder bump and beamed. Whatever issues he was having about Evolene’s new status as King Magnar’s ward and Phoenix’s bondmate seemed had been resolved by speaking to her. I broke off a piece of crispy skin and took a bite.
Brunus and Virens leaned across the table. “You have team Griffon’s support. Niger will join us to guard the yellow dragonets.”
“Really?”
“We owe Asproceros a good hiding for attacking our brother from behind.”
A weight lifted off my chest. “Thank you!”
“All right.” Stafford waved a forkful of roasted pepper. “We need two more teams. Who can we ask to volunteer?”
I glanced around. “Maybe some of the grooms? They’ve been the worst hit.”
Gobi leaned forward in his seat, eyes glimmering with excitement. “Am I invited on this hunt?”
“It’s going to be dangerous,” I said. “Everyone who encountered Asproceros ended up with fractured skulls, including me.”
He scowled. “But you leave me out of all of your adventures. I may be young, but that does not make me weak!”
I shot Rufus a helpless glance. Didn’t he usually keep Gobi out of trouble?
He rolled his eyes. “I suppose the Prince Regent would not forgive me if I let his kin get hurt.”
“He’s talking about you,” said Fyrian.
“Why do Griffon brothers act like women need protection?”
“Because they’re ogres, and you’re a Princess.”
I sniffed. “You two might as well come along. If the grooms say yes, we’ll need one more team. Maybe the witches who were betrothed to that rider?”
Rufus shook his head. “Considering they tried to kill him, I doubt that they would want to avenge his death.”
“He’s right,” said Fyrian.
I glanced around the mess hall, looking for people who might want to join our quest to catch Asproceros before he struck again. Most warriors were already patrolling the grounds, so I couldn’t ask any of them to neglect their duty, and the few civilians in the mess hall didn’t seem strong enough to face a full ogre. Even after taking Master Jesper’s elixirs, I wasn’t sure if I could handle Asproceros on my own.
“That’s why we need to practice what Pristis taught us,” said Fyrian. “Come to my stall. You might develop your hardened skin if we work close together.”
“Good idea.” I needed all the help I could get.
The short groom who had walked me back from the Healer’s Academy stepped in through the barrier, his giant longsword trailing on the ground after him. By his side was a quarter-ogre whose pale, blue hair fluffed out from his head like a dandelion. Behind them strode the two groom cadets who had been fighting over an enchanted dagger.
I placed a hand on Stafford’s shoulder. “This lot might be interested in volunteering.”
“Good luck.”
The four males headed for the spit roast, and I followed after them. “Excuse me?”
“Hello, there,” said the short man. “Is everything all right?”
“Did you hear? Asproceros stole some green dragonets this morning.”
The fluffy-haired man bared his teeth. “I still owe that piece of orvoli dung a beating for cracking my skull from behind.”
“This is Silkie,” said the short man. “He’s the one in charge of feeding the dragons.”
I gave the taller male a nod of greeting. “A few of us are meeting up later to ambush Asproceros. Are you in?”
Silkie’s nostrils flared. “Definitely. Can I bring a few mates?”
I glanced from the longswordsman to the cadets. “If you can put together a gang, that would be great. We’re splitting up to guard different groups of dragonets.”
“Is anyone guarding the blues?” asked Silkie.
I shook my head.
“We’ll watch over them. When?”
“Every night until he’s caught,” I replied.
Silkie gave me a nod. “I’ll be there with weapons.”
After finishing my meal and arranging to meet the others later, I headed over to Fyrian’s stall. She sat on her haunches with her head high and forelegs straightened. The setting sun caught the horns around her head, making them shine like a crown of polished jade.
“I’ve been speaking with Griseo.” She lowered her upper body to the ground, indicating for me to get onto her back. “He says the fastest way to form a connection is with skin-to-scale contact.”
I climbed onto her forepaw. “Is that Captain Pristis’ dragon?”
“Yes,” replied Fyrian. “He’s a lot more friendly than that miserable Caneo.”
Using the horned ridges on her forelegs as a ladder, I clambered up to her shoulder. “That’s two silver dragons you like.”
“Who’s the other?” she asked.
“Fulmen.” I settled into the space between her wing bones. “Stafford’s getting close to him, you said.”
“I suppose he’s all right. Besides, I never said I didn’t like silvers.”
I glanced around the bare, sandstone cell. “What do I do now? Sit here with my eyes closed?”
“Griseo said they leaned against each other’s bonds.”
I furrowed my brow. “Leaned?”
Her wing bones twitched into a shrug. “I suppose bonds between dragons and non-fairies are solid.”
“That might be why General Th
ornicroft said my mind was like hollow cheese.”
“All right. Close your eyes and let’s connect.”
After shrugging off my flying jacket, I placed it on my lap and wrapped my arms around Fyrian’s neck. The scales under my skin radiated the heat of a hot spring. With a sigh, I relaxed into the embrace and closed my eyes.
Darkness filled my vision, devoid of the usual faint sunlight streaming through my eyelids. My consciousness floated in what felt like a starless, cloudless night. This felt nothing like the meditation exercise I had practiced with Captain Pristis in my hospital room. Last night, I had been watching the darkness behind my eyes, but today, it felt like I was floating. I twisted around and glided through the air toward a pale, silver moon.
“Fyri, are you there?”
“Yes.” Her voice echoed through the dark. “But I can’t see you.”
“Fly toward the moon. That’s where I’m headed.”
“All right.”
I continued higher, arms outstretched, propelled by my will to join Fyrian at the moon. Moments later, my fingertips touched the cool surface of what appeared to be a solid disc that shimmered like quicksilver.
“Fyri, where are you?”
“I’m at the moon, but it’s more like a bit of metal.”
“Why does it look so different today?” I asked.
“We usually connect deepest when we’re in trouble and don’t have time to notice the scenery of our bond. Sitting here in the comfort of my stall makes our connection slower, I suppose.”
“That makes sense.” My fingertips sank into the disc, encasing them in the sensation of cool slime. “Something’s happening. Hold on.”
“What are you doing?” her voice raised several octaves. “The moon is rippling at my end.”
Casting my mind to a point beyond the moon, I pushed my fingers through the silver disc until they went through the other end.
“A-are those your hands?” she asked.
I glanced down at my arms, which were now wrist-deep in the quicksilver. “What’s wrong with them?”
“Don’t come any further!”
“Why?” I pulled my arms back, but the force of the silver liquid yanked me through to the other side. The world flip-flopped, making me tumble through what felt like the murkiest pond in the Known World. My breath caught in my throat. “I don’t think this is supposed to happen.”
“I told you to stop!” she shrieked.
My head spun somersaults, making me want to curl up into a ball and lie on the ground. “I-it was too late!”
Eventually, the tumbling stopped, and I opened my eyes. Fyrian floated in front of me, her crimson eyes narrowed into slits.
I exhaled a long breath of relief. “That wasn’t too bad.”
“How will you get back?”
Twisting around, I pointed at a spot behind me. “Through the—”
“It’s gone,” she snapped.
“Where?”
“Look at yourself.”
I glanced down at my hands. Instead of pale flesh, I was covered in silver scales. “W-what does that mean?”
“It can’t be anything good.”
“Can you ask Griseo?”
Fyrian closed her eyes. A moment later, she opened them. “I asked him hypothetically what would happen if a rider pushed themselves through the moon. He said it wasn’t hypothetically possible and to stop bothering him with silly questions.”
“Why didn’t you tell him what really happened?”
“Because he would tell Roopal, who would tell Fosco, who would expel you for doing something unauthorized.”
“Sorry. I forgot about the written warning. Is there someone else you can ask?”
“Not Caneo,” said Fyrian. “He and Thornicroft probably know what this is, but he acts too important to speak to a young dragon. Maybe Hyacynth—”
A hand landed on my bare forearm, giving me the kind of jolt I’d once gotten from a shocking-eel. The scenery disappeared, leaving me in the dark. “Cadet Bluford?”
I opened my eyes to meet the turquoise gaze of King Magnar. The wretch had entered Fyrian’s stall without permission and climbed up her forearm.“W-what are you doing in here?”
“I’ve been calling you for a few minutes now.” His brows drew together. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” I pulled my arm out of his grip. “Is that all you did?”
“What?”
“Call out my name and touch my arm?”
His cheeks reddened. “What are you accusing me of?”
A flush heated my face. “Nothing. I-I was just checking. What do you want?”
“I overheard some louts saying you were recruiting warriors to track a poacher. I would like to volunteer.”
“Do you have your magic helmet?” My voice became breathy with excitement. A seven-foot-tall, armored oaf with a huge broadsword and an even larger temper would be handy in a fight against a full ogre.
His brows rose. “Don’t you remember breaking it?”
My shoulders slumped. “Oh yes, the duel you lost. Then the answer is no.”
“Why not?”
“You wouldn’t last ten seconds against Asproceros.”
His spine stiffened into one of those regal postures that made me want to shove him down to the ground. Then he raised his chin in an even more aggravating posture and said, “I’m stronger than I look. Give me a chance to prove my worth?”
I shook my head. “You can take a beating, I’ll give you that, but that ogre killed a dragon rider. It wouldn’t be safe for you.”
“What if I brought Astri and Botilda?”
A jolt of excitement made me straighten. I’d almost forgotten the pair were in Mount Fornax. They probably didn’t venture out because of the furor around Evolene’s escape from the magical militia. I beamed at King Magnar. He might be the worst monarch in the Known World, but his sisters were impressive.
“They’d be brilliant,” I said. “All right, the three of you are our fifth team, and you’ll be watching the black dragonets.”
His face fell. “I wanted to lend my strength to your team.”
I pretended not to hear his overture of friendship. Every time I showed him an ounce of compassion, he would make it backfire. “The black dragonets are probably at the bottom of the mountain in one of those earth homes. You can always explain what you’re doing to a black dragon, and one of them will direct you.”
He sagged. “Very well. I will inform my sisters.”
After he left, I took a stair stone to the surface and walked over to the Healer’s Academy building to pick up Evolene. Two white discs hung on the door. I picked one up and placed it over my head. While it felt slightly warmer than the quicksilver moon, the tentacles slithering down my mouth and nostrils were far more unpleasant. Once the breathing parasol was in place, I pushed the door open.
Green smoke billowed out from the laboratory. Stafford sat on a cot, watching Evolene milk a Boreal viper and pour its venom into a bubbling cauldron.
“Did Stafford tell you about Asproceros?” I stepped inside.
Master Jesper took the writhing snake from Evolene’s hands and placed it into a basket. “I want you to exercise caution when apprehending him. If he has been sent by the spriggans, his last captive might be yourself”
My stomach churned at the notion. “Can either of you join us tonight?”
Master Jesper shook its head. “This is a critical stage in the brewing process. I have to enchant multiple spells over the poison, and I can’t get it wrong. However, Madam Evolene may take the evening off.”
“Thank you.” She wiped her hands on a cloth. “I’ll bring the visibility dust.”
“Is that to negate the effects of the cloak?” I asked.
She nodded.
Stafford stood. “Let’s go upstairs to class, then. We’ll come down for you in a few hours.”
Chapter 18
Dr. Duclair held Healing class in a room twice the size of Fyri
an’s stall because she and a pair of male assistants wanted to demonstrate ways to calm anxious dragons. Master Hyacinthus attended the first half hour of the lecture to translate, as the dragon felt he needed a little moral support.
I scribbled down a few notes but couldn’t focus because Asproceros and his monstrous fists occupied my mind. The ogre was indeed a coward. Most warriors wouldn’t run from weaker opponents, and they certainly wouldn’t attack them from behind or ambush them from behind a corner. He’d only managed to catch me unawares because I wasn’t prepared for him.
“But you know what he’s like now,” said Fyrian.
“Full of dirty tricks,” I replied. “Next time, I won’t let him take advantage of any blind spots.”
“And dodge those fists.”
“Exactly.”
“What’s going on in class?”
“Nothing.” I kept my eyes on the parchment.
Dr. Duclair’s patient was a male with oxblood-colored scales who wore a black mask to obscure his face. From the faint scent of dung clinging to his scales, it was clear that the anxious dragon was Byrrus, Fyrian’s nemesis. He had passed up the opportunity to partner with Captain Caiman by bonding with King Magnar under the influence of the loyalty elixir. I pushed thoughts of the distressed dragon to the back of my mind. Fyrian wasn’t in the best of moods because of the wild dragon’s harassment, and I didn’t want to add any more fuel to her rivalry with Byrrus by showing her the class.
“Cadet Bluford?” Dr. Duclair floated down from the masked dragon. “Are you still suffering from your recent concussion? You don’t seem to be concentrating.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Sorry. My mind wandered.”
“Stay behind afterward.”
My heart spasmed. I was supposed to be meeting the others to coordinate the ambush. “Yes, Doctor.”
She flew back to address the entire class. “A dragon who loses the will to eat usually does so because of a low mood. For those of you who have mage powers, Healer Maccoa will demonstrate a basic healing technique. It infuses a little of another dragon’s energy into the patient to give them a boost.”
A quarter-ogre with long, black-and-white hair in a braid that reached his shoulder blades stepped forward with his palms raised. “This only works when you’ve bonded to a dragon. If you try this without a bond, you’ll exhaust your magic and end up here for a week.”
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