“I will handle this.”
“Right. Of course you are.” Rhi’s mouth curves into a sad glimpse of a smile before she turns away, heading for Feirge, who waits on Tairn’s other side.
“Fuck,” I mutter, rubbing the bridge of my nose. No matter what I say right now, it’s always the wrong thing. “She’s never going to forgive me for keeping all this from her once she finds out.”
“She will,” he says, his head lowering slightly, but he doesn’t dip his shoulder even as I reach his front left claw. “Humans have the memories of gnats. Dragons hold grudges.”
“I’m going to forget you said that,” I tease back.
“Be alert.” His head swivels and I turn, unsheathing a dagger in the same moment.
“Surely you wouldn’t think of attacking a professor, would you, Sorrengail?” Varrish glances at my weapon, keeping that same mask of a smile in place. “Let alone a vice commandant.”
A low growl works up Tairn’s throat, and he curls his lip just enough to bare the tips of his fangs.
“I attack anyone foolish enough to sneak up behind me this year.” I roll my shoulder back and lift my chin.
“Hmm.” He leans to the side and looks past Tairn’s foreleg. “No little feathertail with you today?”
“Obviously.” Fear slides down my spine.
“How unfortunate.” He sighs, then turns his back on me, his boots crunching in the dry grass as he heads toward Solas. “There will be no maneuvers for you today, Sorrengail.”
My stomach rolls. “I’m sorry?”
Tairn shifts sideways, sweeping his foreleg around me so I stand under his chest scales.
“Not yet,” Varrish says over his shoulder, his brow puckering for a second as he notices Tairn’s stance. “But you will be. Warnings have apparently not worked, and I am hereby charging you with dereliction of duty for your dragon’s refusal to appear for maneuvers. You will mount and fly to your training location with Professor Carr to receive your punishment.”
“That will not be happening.” Tairn’s head lowers fully, and his body crouches into a defensive position.
“What is going on?” Rhi asks, her gaze jumping between Varrish and me as she walks back over to me.
“Obviously, her first punishment wasn’t enough to teach your subordinate, Squad Leader Matthias, so she requires another.” He blinks, tilting his head. “And as the vice commandant, I don’t owe you an explanation. Now mount up for maneuvers before you’re punished alongside her.”
“There will be no punishment!” Tairn roars, and from the abrupt head jerks of the dragons on the field, including Solas, everyone heard him. “It is not within your power to summon a dragon.”
It takes a second for thoughts to relay through riders, and Varrish stiffens. “Your dragon may not fall under my command, Sorrengail, but you do. So unless you’d like to further explore that delicate space between burnout and death, you will mount and present yourself—”
“Even the smallest dragon does not answer to the most powerful of humans, which you are not.” Tairn snaps his teeth, the sound carrying over the valley.
Feirge’s head draws back, and her golden eyes widen.
“Andarna does not answer to you.” Tairn stalks forward, his head and chest so low to the ground that he nearly touches my hair, and Varrish retreats. “I do not answer to you.”
Oh shit. This could go very bad very quickly.
“But you”—Varrish points at me—“answer to me!”
“Does she?” Tairn lunges forward, bypassing Varrish entirely and surging toward Solas with an ear-shattering roar, his morningstar tail lashing the air above me. Solas whips his head toward the ground to guard his most vulnerable area—his neck—but Tairn is faster, bigger, and far stronger. He’s already there, his enormous jaw locked around Solas’s throat.
I gasp as Tairn’s massive fangs sink between the joints of Solas’s scales, piercing his neck, and Kaori sprints to get out of the battleground.
Varrish turns and stiffens as crimson rivulets run over Solas’s orange neck scales, dripping off several of the ridges.
“Tairn…” What will the Empyrean do to him if he kills Solas?
“Only a rider can be the vice commandant of Basgiath,” Tairn warns, and Solas lets out a sound that’s half roar, half shriek. “Without a dragon, you are no rider.”
Oh gods. My heart lurches, the beat rushing to a gallop.
“Fine!” Varrish shouts, his fists balled at his side. “She will not pay a price for her dragon’s refusal to attend.”
“Not good enough.” Tairn’s teeth reach the edges of Solas’s scales as I watch in slack-jawed horror. “This is about you.”
Solas half roars, causing his blood to pour even faster down his exposed neck as he whips his tail toward Tairn, but he’s half Tairn’s size and has no hope of making contact, thank Dunne.
“All right!” Varrish staggers forward, and for a second, I feel sorry for him. “All right,” he repeats, putting his hands up. “Humans have no authority to summon dragons.”
Rhiannon sidesteps until her arm brushes my shoulder, and Feirge lowers her head, as do Aotrom and Sliseag. Hell, every dragon I can see in my peripherals takes the same stance.
“Apologize,” Tairn demands, his voice low and sharp.
“I’m sorry!” Varrish’s voice breaks.
“Apologize to the one Andarna deemed worthy of her bond.”
I try to swallow, but my mouth has gone dry.
