“That’s Scourge,” Zabriel says. He speaks in reverent tones as he points to an enormous black dragon with burning red eyes. “Look how big he is. Those powerful wings. He’s young, but he’s already the biggest dragon in the flare. When old Pollex dies, Scourge will be the flare’s Alpha.”
I know Pollex by sight. The chestnut-colored dragon is sitting at the center of the flare, his eyes half-closed against the bright sunlight, with his mate Damla asleep with her head across his forelegs. Scourge is a formidable black dragon, and Zabriel clearly has his sights set on him. I think I’d prefer a dragon who’s smaller.
“Are you sure Scourge will be the next Alpha? Dragonmaster Destrin believed it would be Nilak,” I say without thinking.
“What would a stupid country mouse know about what the last dragonmaster believed?” Emmeric sneers.
“Oh. Dragonmaster Destrin was my grandfather, my prince.”
Emmeric turns bright red, and his eyes sparkle with anger.
Zabriel laughs. “And here I am telling you about dragons. You could tell us all about them.”
“But you told me so much. There are so many new dragons since I was last in Lenhale, my prince.”
Zabriel waves off my formality. “Just call him Emmeric and me Zabriel unless our father is around. Come on, we can get a little closer.”
“Don’t you like being called prince?” I ask as I stroll alongside him.
Zabriel grimaces. “Would you like to be calledprincessall the time instead of your name? Now, which dragon would you choose to bond with if it were up to you? If Dragonmaster Destrin was your grandfather, then you must be a future rider.”
It’s a purely theoretical question, because we all know that dragons choose their riders, but I take a long look around. “They’re all wonderful, but I don’t think any of these is my dragon. What about you, Zabriel?”
Zabriel’s rapt attention is entirely for Scourge. I can see the hint of dragines at the corners of the prince’s upper teeth as he smiles, which means he’s an Alpha. I picture the crown prince’s cascading hair turned black and his eyes glowing red like coals. Zabriel already knows which dragon is going to choose him.
It will be the same for me. I will know from the moment I see my dragon, and my life will never be the same again.
2
Stesha
I’m engulfed in a wave of bad memories as I walk away from Alin’s daughter. I remember Zenevieve, and I can tell from her shocked expression that she remembers me from when I was her grandfather’s apprentice. I’d rather people didn’t remember me, and thankfully most don’t. Before I became the dragonmaster, very few people were aware that I existed.
I ask about the newly arrived family at a City Guard station in the east of Lenhale, and they give me directions. A few minutes later, I’m knocking on the front door of a stone terraced house within the city walls.
A man opens it, and I glower at him. “You could have told me you were coming.”
Alin grins and clasps my forearm in greeting. “I wanted to surprise my serious little brother. You’re not so little now. Gods, Stesha. You’re as big as a tree. Come in, come in. Do you remember my mate?”
As I enter the house, I nod to a woman over his shoulder. “It’s good to see you, Claris.”
“And you, Stesha.” She waves cheerfully to me while opening packing crates.
Alin and I aren’t brothers by birth, and he is older than me by twelve years, but Dragonmaster Destrin called us both his sons. When Alin left the capital to raise his family in the countryside, I was surprised and touched to find he wanted to maintain the relationship with me through letters, even beyond his father’s death five years ago.
“You have seen Zenevieve?” Alin asks. “I don’t think I could have kept her from the dragongrounds for a moment. I hope she wasn’t a nuisance.”
Nuisance remains to be seen, but I understand that people want to stare at the dragons. There’s nothing more impressive or interesting as the flare. “Nilak remembered her.”
“Zenevieve will be over the moon about that. All she’s been able to talk about for weeks is dragons, dragons, dragons.”
“Will you remain in the capital for long?”
“A while, I believe. The king wishes Zenevieve to meet his sons, though all Zenevieve can talk about is learning to fly.”
So she wants to be a dragonrider. A wish, or a true instinct? “I’m about to commence riding lessons for the princes, the princess, and another hopeful. Zenevieve is young, but not quite so young as Princess Mirelle. She may join us if she wishes.”
Alin looks touched by my offer. “Do you truly mean that, Stesha?”
