By the time we made it out of the stables to the edge of the launch hollow quite a crowd had gathered. At first I thought there must be young bucks fighting, or some other drama among the herd, because there were ten or more dragons in the air overhead, wheeling and calling, yet none of them gave any sign of landing.
I’d only seen that behavior when a baby dragon hatched and the herd were guarding the skies.
Shading my eyes from the sun, I looked up. “Keg, what are they—”
‘Donavyn.’
My dragon’s voice was deep, insistent.Worried.I snapped my head around to look just as the men and dragons on the ground parted to let him through, and so a path opened all the way to the bottom of the bowl, and Icaught a glimpse of what looked to be a gray dragon. A young female—her horns weren’t even curved yet. She was curled up on the ground at the base of the hollow, her rump drawn towards her shoulder and her legs folded towards her belly. Her wings were only half-retracted. I wondered if she’d somehow fallen from the sky—had she been injured? But then she flapped them when someone walked too close. Her tail lashed like a cat, and she opened her mouth to hiss when one of the handlers stepped closer respectfully asking to help her.
‘Is she injured?’I asked Kgosi, confused.
The dragons could be dramatic in their displays. But they were usually stoic in the face of pain or danger.
‘No. Though she is protecting something. Or should I say, someone.Perhapsthey’rehurt,’my dragon replied, but his tone was oddly distant. Preoccupied.
Down below on the grass, one of the male dragons who’d been attracted by the crowd, slipped closer, his neck curved and snout to the ground—a posture of curiosity and respect. And yet, when he reached the female, she opened her jaws and lifted her wings to make herself bigger, her tail cracking like a whip.
My brows rose. “Keg, what’s going on?” I breathed.
‘I will learn,’he replied, then growled—a low, thunderous rumble that set every dragon in the clearing backing away and averting eyes from their Primarch who was making it very clear that the female was to be left to him.
Some of the Furyknights had come with their dragons to see this, and there were easily a dozen stablehands, as well as a few others. But any human who worked with the dragons knew the command behind that sound, and they all retreated from the female.
She dropped her chin and closed her mouth, but swung her head back and forth, even checking behind her, as if she worried someone might try to sneak up.
Kgosi eased down the side of the bowl, keeping his head low, giving her plenty of time to see him approach. But though she didn’t flatten her ears, she watched him, her mouth open, tongue extended as she panted, clearly unsettled.
‘Kgosi, what’s happening?’
‘She’s young. Her instincts have taken hold. She’s protective—even against the herd. Time is needed. She’ll come around.’
‘Protective of what?’
‘Her Flameborne.’
I blinked and my head jerked back. I couldn’t have heard that correctly. Or I hadn’t paid attention, because while she was definitely large for a female and likely headed for battle, I would have sworn she had only barely reached maturity. She was an adult, but still very young by dragon standards. In no way equipped to bond a rider yet.
Squinting, wondering if my eyes had failed, I looked again. But, no. Her horns extended from the back of her skull almost completely straight. She hadn’t lived long enough for them to lengthen and curve down toward her neck. Her wing membranes were taut even when she wasn’t flapping. And her scales retained the slightly blue hue of youth.
She couldn’t be more than fifty—which was barely out of adolescence in dragon terms. She shouldn’t have been Choosing for at least another two decades, and even that would have been young. Most dragons were closing in on a century before they chose their first bond. It was part of why it was so crucial for us to manage birthrates and the health of the herd now—because our poor choices could spell disaster for the generations that followed.
But Kgosi said she was protecting a Flameborne? AChosen,but untested new rider?
She’d bonded someone?
‘Who is it? Is he a Prospect?’
I prayed he was. Prospects were men who had hoped to become Furyknights, and so took jobs here and at the Palace and in the stables, keeping themselves in the proximity of the dragons, and learning about them. Many of them were never Chosen, but became stablehands or healers, or took other positions that at least kept them near the dragons. They were generally older than our other Flamebornes. With a dragon this young and untried, it would take a very strong and mature man to nurture the bond since he needed to make it through the trials with an immature dragon.
‘No,’was all that Kgosi replied. He was drawing closer to the female and he’d begun crooning to soothe her.
He weaved his head back and forth, emitting that low hum that rose and fell in a lovely, soft susurration. She watched him warily, but didn’t hiss.
Soon, he made it within reach.
She’d curled herself into a round knot, her legs drawn up towards her belly, her wings still flapping with agitation at times, though not extended far enough to lift her into flight.
I waited, barely breathing, as Kgosi nudged at her snout, still crooning, then rubbed his head against hers, then her neck, slowly inching forward, always rumbling and crooning, until finally he stood, chest at her head, his head near her shoulder, and he could see under her wing.
