“You’ll manifest when your dragon is ready to trust you with all that power,” Quinn says, then finishes off her water. “Just hope your dragons trust you before about six months and—” She makes a sound like an explosion and mimics it with her hands.
“Stop scaring the children,” Imogen says. “That hasn’t happened in”—she pauses to think—“decades.” When we all stare at her, she rolls her eyes. “Look, the relic your dragons transferred onto you at Threshing is the conduit to let all that magic into your body. If you don’t manifest a signet and let it out, then after a bunch of months, bad things happen.”
We all gawk.
“The magic consumes you,” Quinn adds, making the explosion sound again.
“Relax, it’s not like a hard deadline or something. It’s just an average.” Imogen shrugs.
“Fuck me, it’s always something around here,” Ridoc mutters.
“Feeling a little luckier now,” Sawyer says, staring at his fork.
“We’ll get you some wooden utensils,” I tell Sawyer. “And you should probably avoid the armory or sparring with…anything.”
Sawyer scoffs. “That’s the truth. At least I’ll be safe during flight this afternoon.”
Adding flight classes to our schedule has been essential since Threshing. The wings rotate for access to the flight field, and today is one of our lucky days of the week.
I feel a tingle in my scalp and know if I turn, I’ll find Xaden watching us. Watching me. But I don’t give him the satisfaction of looking. He hasn’t said so much as a word to me since Threshing. That doesn’t mean I’m alone—oh, I’m never alone. There’s always an upperclassman somewhere near when I’m walking the halls or headed to the gym at night.
And they all have rebellion relics.
“I like it better when we have it in the morning,” Rhiannon says, her face souring. “It’s way worse after we’ve eaten breakfast and lunch.”
“Agreed,” I manage between mouthfuls.
“Finish the turkey,” Imogen orders. “I’ll see you tonight.” She and Quinn clear their trays, taking them back to the window for scullery.
“Is she any nicer when she’s training you?” Rhiannon asks.
“No. But she’s efficient.” I finish the turkey as the room begins to clear, and we all make our way toward the scullery window. “What’s Professor Carr like?” I ask Sawyer, then tuck my tray onto the stack. The wielding professor is one of the only ones I haven’t met, since I haven’t manifested a signet.
“Fucking terrifying,” Sawyer answers. “I can’t wait for the entire year to start wielding lessons so everyone can enjoy his particular brand of instruction.”
We head out through commons and the rotunda and into the courtyard, all buttoning up our coats. November has hit hard with gusty winds and frosted grass in the morning, and the first snow isn’t far behind.
“I knew it would work!” Jack Barlowe says ahead of us, dragging someone under his arm and thumping her head affectionately.
“Isn’t that Caroline Ashton?” Rhiannon asks, her mouth hanging open as Caroline heads toward the academic wing with Jack.
“Yeah.” Ridoc tenses. “She bonded Gleann this morning.”
“Wasn’t he already bonded?” Rhiannon watches them until they disappear into the wing.
“His rider died on our first flight lesson.” I focus on the gate ahead that leads to the flight field.
“So I guess the unbonded still have that shot they’re looking for,” Rhiannon mutters.
“Yeah.” Sawyer nods, his features tense. “They do.”
…
“You only fell about a dozen times that trip,” Tairn remarks as we land on the flight field.
“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or not.” I take deep breaths and try to calm my racing heart.
“Take it as you wish.”
I mentally roll my eyes and scoot out of the seat as he dips his shoulder so I can slide down his foreleg. The move has become so practiced that I barely even notice that other riders are capable of leaping to the ground or descending the proper way. “Besides, you could make it easier, you know.”
“Oh, I know.”
“I’m not the one putting us into spirals with steep banks while Kaori is teaching plain dives.” My feet hit the ground of the field, and I arch an eyebrow at Tairn.
“I’m training you for battle. He’s teaching you parlor tricks.” He blinks a golden eye at me and looks away.
“Do you think we can get Andarna to join us next week? Even if it’s just to fly along?” I do all the checks Kaori has taught us, looking for any debris that could have lodged between the long, taloned toes of Tairn’s claws or between the rock-hard scales of his underbelly.
“I’m not foolish enough to not know that I have something stuck in my flesh. And I wouldn’t ask Andarna to join us unless she requested it. She can’t keep up the speed, and it would only draw unwanted attention.”
“I never get to see her,” I blatantly whine. “I’m always stuck with your grumpy ass.”
“I’m always here,” Andarna answers, but there’s no flicker of gold. She’s most likely in the Vale as usual, but at least she’s protected there.
“This grumpy ass just caught you a dozen times, Silver One.”
“Eventually you could call me Violet, you know.” I take the time to examine every row of his scales. One of the biggest dangers to dragons are the smallest things they can’t remove that penetrate between the scales, causing infection.
