1. The Betrayal
~ BREN (Pronounced Bren) ~
After walking all night, my still-healing body pleading with me to stop, I nearly wept with relief when I finally reached the ancient wood that surrounded the Dragon Keep. I was unnerved by the shadows of gnarled trees dripping with moss but made myself push on.
He’s going to be here. I have to see him.
Minutes later, breathing in jagged puffs from lungs tightened by both fear and pain, I finally found the launch hollow.
The crooked trees opened near the towering Academy buildings to reveal a wide crater on the ground carpeted in grass. In the pre-dawn dark, it seemed so humble. Without the damp fog and the shadowy buildings rising behind it, I might have dismissed it as a naturally steep depression in the landscape. But I shivered at the slashes in the dirt, the clods of grass ripped from the earth, because I knew they’d been torn by dragon talons.
This was the place where the dragonfuries would gather with their riders—the Furyknights—at sunrise. And one of those men belonged to me.
I hovered within the trees, uncertain, searching for a position from which I could see the ground below so I’d know when they arrived, but rest safely until then.
But as I scanned the land, the mists on the other side of the hollow curled and tumbled away from a disturbance, billowing suddenly on a shore of sea-green scales, until they parted to reveal a stunning dragonfury.
The sight stole my breath.
Tall and proud, it slid into the clearing, head high and hot blasts of breath and smoke pouring from its nostrils at the tip of its broad snout as it snorted—like a horse, onlydeeper—and turned its regal head to look around.
I should have been terrified. It was large enough to swallow me whole. But it was so beautiful, I couldn’t breathe.
Sinking even deeper between the trees, I couldn’t bring myself to turn away, to run. Because nothing existed in that moment except this magnificent creature.
Only moments before that hollow earth had been mere space, surrounded by forest, and all of it silent in the cold, dark hour before dawn.
Now, the knotted trees stood guard over a beauty and power so rich, the air shimmered just like its marvelous scales that, despite the emerald hue, pulsed and flickered with the same promise of heat that lingered in the dying coals of a fire.
The earth fell away. I no longer saw the mist curling between the ancient trees. The pale dawn no longer promised a new day because it served no purpose other than to caress that iridescent skin, glowing with power and strength.
Despite its massive size, the dragonfury slipped silently into the clearing, raised its wings and stretched them. A gust of wind thatboomedwhen those massive wings clapped the air.
I was awed.
Like any citizen, I’d seen the dragonfuries my whole life—but usually soaring so high they could be mistaken for large birds. I’d never seen one up close before.
I watched, transfixed, as it rippled to the edge of the launch hollow. I held my breath, fearing that it might take off and then my moment with it would end.
But instead, it shook its head like a dog—a startlingly mundane comparison—and retracted its wings to tuck back against its sides.
As I leaned closer, my breath clouding among the mists, the air vibrated with a strange, deep rumble that rose from the bowels of the earth and trembled in my bones. Then those fathomless, amber eyes turned and locked on me like jewels set in the precious metal of its green-blue scales.
For one, blessed, shining moment, the world and all its pains disappeared.
I forgot the events of a few weeks ago, the wracking pain of my body and the specter of shame that had shadowed my father’s eyes ever since.
I forgot that Ruin was leaving and likely wouldn’t return for months, perhaps even years.
I even forgot the creeping dread that had kept my limbs heavy as I walked all night to be here.
For one breathless beat there was nothing in the world but the savage grace of a creature so ancient, it must know the face of God.
Hello, Little Flame.
I didn’thearthe voice butsensedthe greeting as this fantastic beast stared at me. Fixed in that gaze, I was speechless. Until it snorted again and two more gusts of steam and smoke plumed from its nostrils, hissing into the pre-dawn air.
Swallowing a surprised squeak, I dropped to a crouch below the level of the underbrush to break the spell the fury held on me and remind myself I was here for a purpose. But I squirmed, unable to shake the distinct impression it laughed at my fright.