“Feathertails shouldn’t bond because they can accidentally gift their powers to humans,” Andarna continues. “Dragons can’t channel—not really—until we’re big, but we’re all born with something special.”
I relay the message. “Like a signet?” I ask out loud so Xaden can hear.
“No,” Sgaeyl answers. “A signet is a combination of our power with your own ability to channel. It reflects who you are at the core of your being.”
Andarna sits up and tilts her head proudly. “But I gave my gift directly to you. Because I’m still a feathertail.”
I repeat again, staring at the smaller dragon. Almost nothing is known about feathertails because they’re never seen outside the Vale. They’re guarded. They’re… I swallow. Wait. What did she say? “You’re still a feathertail?”
“Yep! For another couple of years, probably.” She blinks slowly and then cracks a yawn, her forked tail curling.
Oh. Gods. “You’re…you’re a hatchling,” I whisper.
“I am not!” Andarna puffs steam into the air. “I’m two! The hatchlings can’t even fly!”
“She’s a what?” Xaden’s gaze swings between Andarna and me.
I glare up at Tairn. “You let a juvenile bond? A juvenile train for war?”
“We mature at a much faster rate than humans,” he argues, having the nerve to look affronted. “And I’m not sure anyone lets Andarna do anything.”
“How much faster?” I gasp. “She’s two years old!”
“She’ll be full-grown in a year or two, but some are slower than others,” Sgaeyl answers. “And if I thought she’d actually bond, I would have objected harder to her Right of Benefaction.” She chuffs at Andarna in obvious disapproval.
“Hold on. Is Andarna yours?” Xaden walks a step toward Sgaeyl, and the tone in his voice is one I’ve never heard. He’s…hurt. “Have you hidden a hatchling away from me these last two years?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Sgaeyl blows out a blast of air that ruffles Xaden’s hair. “Do you think I’d let my offspring bond while still feathered?”
“Her parents passed before hatching,” Tairn answers.
My heart sinks. “Oh, I’m sorry, Andarna.”
“I have lots of elders,” she responds, as though that makes up for it, but having lost my dad…I know it doesn’t.
“Not enough to keep you off the Threshing field,” Tairn grumbles. “Feathertails don’t bond because their power is too unpredictable. Unstable.”
“Unpredictable?” Xaden questions.
“The same way you wouldn’t hand a toddler your signet, would you, wingleader?” Tairn grunts when Andarna sags against his foreleg.
“Gods, no. I could barely control it as a first-year.” Xaden shakes his head.
It’s odd to imagine Xaden ever not being in control. Hell, I’d pay good money to see him lose it. To be the one he lost it with. Nope. I shut that thought down immediately.
“Exactly. Bonding too young allows them to give their gift directly, and a rider could easily drain them and burn out.”
“I would never!” I shake my head.
“That’s why I chose you.” Andarna’s head flops against Tairn’s leg. How could I not see it before now? Her rounded eyes, her paws…
“Of course, you wouldn’t know. Feathertails aren’t supposed to be seen,” Tairn says, glancing sideways at his mate.
She doesn’t even roll her eyes.
“If leadership knew riders could take her gifts for themselves, rather than depending on their own signets…” Xaden says, staring at Andarna as she blinks slower and slower.
“She’d be hunted,” I finish quietly.
“Which is why you can’t tell anyone what she is,” Sgaeyl says. “Hopefully she’ll mature once you’re out of the quadrant, and the elders are already placing more…stringent protections on the feathertails.”
“I won’t,” I promise. “Andarna, thank you. Whatever you did saved my life.”
“I made time stop.” Her mouth drops open into another jaw-cracking yawn. “But only for a little bit.”
Wait. What? My stomach hits the ground as I stare into Andarna’s golden eyes and forget the pain, the solid earth beneath my feet, even the need to breathe as shock rolls through me, robbing me of logic.
No one can stop time. Nothing can stop it. It’s…unheard of.
“What did she say?” Xaden asks, gripping my shoulders to steady me.
Tairn growls and a puff of steam blasts us both.
“I’d take your hands off the rider,” Sgaeyl warns.
Xaden loosens his grip but continues to cradle my shoulders. “Tell me what she said. Please.” His mouth tightens and I know that last bit cost him.
“She can pause time,” I force out, stumbling over my words. “Briefly.”
