Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 54811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
“Never know. A little unpredictability might be good for you. Balance you out and all that.” A smile plays across his face.
“Zihnal, no.” I blanch and send a plea to the god of luck. “Fire and impulsivity shouldn’t mix.”
“Just remember that Zihnal doesn’t favor just those who need luck but those who accept his gifts without hesitation.” Dad rotates a black bead on the bracelet he wears on his left wrist, then pulls it off and hands it to me. “A dragon is surely the greatest gift a god can give, but I want you to have this.”
“You’ve worn this since…forever.” I slip the bracelet over my hand. It’s still warm from his body heat.
“And now it’s yours. I’ll feel better knowing you have a piece of me with you.”
“Thank you.” I twist the bracelet like I’ve seen him do thousands of times.
Another cadet shrieks to the south, deeper within the forest, and we both turn in that direction.
I swallow. Hard. “I have to go.”
“I love you, Brennan.” He pulls me into another hug, and I hold tight. “The next time I see you, you’ll be a rider,” he says, his tone calm as always. There’s no desperation in his embrace, no fear that this will be the last time we see each other tightening his grip.
“I will,” I promise. It’s the certainty in his voice, the reassurance that I’ll live through this day, that allows me to let go of him. Dad’s never been wrong about anything, and I’m not going to prove him fallible today. “I love you, too.”
“Don’t stress, Brennan. Enjoy today. Dragons love Sorrengails.” He walks away, disappearing into the trees with an ease that makes me wonder how many times he’s faded into other backgrounds of perilous situations in the name of his research.
I turn toward the center of the forest, steady my breathing and my racing heart, then roll my shoulders.
Let’s go.
Autumn leaves crunch under my feet as I move among the trees, listening for that little voice Kaori mentioned, waiting for my instincts to direct me. Overhead, brown fills the air as a dragon launches skyward. Guess that one isn’t mine.
“I’m telling you, I saw a blue this way!” someone shouts.
“No blues are on Kaori’s list,” someone else argues.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to warn them to split up when fire erupts through the trees to my left. I leap behind the trunk of a giant pine, my heart thundering as the voices fall silent. A Red Scorpiontail swishes into view, and I hold my breath, instinctively knowing that one is not mine.
I wait until the dragon clears the nearby space, then glance up at the sprawling branches of the tree I’ve taken shelter under. Now this is a tree Violet would love to climb.
And it will give me the best vantage point.
Branch by branch, I scale the tree as quietly as possible, careful not to catch the sword I keep sheathed at my side on any of the rough bark. A dragon roars in the distance, followed by a scream, but I climb with single-minded focus. If I give in to the fear knocking at my heart with all the subtlety of a battering ram, the dragons will be able to smell it.
Dragons don’t bond cowards.
The branches above me turn sparse and gangly with new growth, but none of them look capable of holding my weight, so I plant my feet right where they are, grasp the thinner branch above with both hands, and peer across the forest.
A kaleidoscope of colors fills my vision. The tops of the trees are a myriad of fall tones, the leaves providing camouflage for every color of dragon besides the blues and blacks that have abstained from this year’s Threshing. Branches sway at various locations in the forest, no doubt propelled by the dragons that stalk beneath the canopy. There are three—make that four—plumes of smoke and one concerning fire to the east that surely deserves the attention of a water wielder. A Green Daggertail splits the air to the west, a rider clinging to her seat as the dragon beats its wings for altitude.
Mine is out there somewhere.
I close my eyes and listen to my pounding heart, hoping it will tug me in the direction of the dragon I’m meant to bond, but there’s nothing. No tug. No pull. Not even a whisper of a twitch. Just a hot breeze against my face.
My brilliant plan might not be so brilliant after all. Would have been nice if Mom had given me some guidance or warned me about…anything. Parapet. Gauntlet. Presentation. The futility of climbing trees. I should write all this shit down so Mira doesn’t have to figure it out on her own.
The heat suddenly intensifies, and my eyes pop open.
My heart lurches into my throat.