Page 16 of The Infirmary for Dragon Burns and Midair Mishaps

Her cheeks were redder than mine, her smile merry. I wondered how many drinks she’d gotten through with Matty before I’d arrived. Despite the fact that she was definitely tipsy, I couldn’t help but smile at the genuine warmth in her voice. I’d never felt so at home at the academy clinics. Worked to the bone? Yes. Stressed by the sheer volume of injuries coming through the door? Absolutely. But never part of a team—I’d simply been another pair of hands.

I cleared my throat, raising my own tankard. It had a curled pewter dragon’s tail for a handle. “I appreciate everyone’s patience with me. And I look forward to working alongside you all during this migration.”

“What about after?” Reo asked. The inky dragon on his forearm flexed as he reached for the platter of soft bread and cheese in the middle of the table. The bread had been brought in especially for the migration, baked in hearths lit by dragon fire. It smelled divine and my stomach grumbled in answer to his question. “Will you move on?”

“I haven’t given it much thought,” I admitted. At the academy, I knew I’d needed a change. I’d been desperate for it. But when the dragons moved on from Ember Ridge after the migration, maybe it would be time for me to go, too. “Perhaps I’ll return to the rider academy.”

Nisse wrinkled her nose. “I’ve heard awful things about the way that place runs. I know quite a few of the apothecaries down there, and they say those trainees are put through hell.”

I nodded in agreement. I’d seen the treatment myself.

“They only want the best of the best for the kingsguard,” Reo said, sounding bitter. “The competition is tough. So they push those trainees to their limits. Half of every academy year flunks out in their first week.”

“You went through the training, didn’t you?” Matty said.

Reo nodded. “Made it a couple of months into the program before I broke. I wanted to fly for the kingsguard more than anything, but I couldn’t hack the conditions at the academy. The worst of it was that my parents told anyone who would listen that their son was going to be a dragon rider. I couldn’t even go home after I dropped out. Not for years.”

Hearing the way Reo spoke of his experience, I considered the incredible amount of strength it must have taken Vaela to make it through the wrangler program. It was different from riding for the kingsguard. I knew that. But in many ways, it wasn’t that different at all—the physical demands on the body, the emotional and mental strain of the job.

“For what it’s worth,” Nisse said to Reo, “I think you make an excellent burntender.” He smiled at that. “And I’m glad you made it out of the program unscathed. I’ve heard horror stories of other trainees being far less fortunate.”

I swallowed hard. I’d also seen that first-hand.

Seraphine threw back the last of her drink. “Well, this all took a very harrowing turn,” she said.

“Depressing,” Matty agreed, draining his ale. “Who’s ready for another?”

Reo lifted his tankard, rising to his feet. “I’ll help you get the next round. I need something to wash the taste of failure from my mouth.”

Matty clapped him on the back, showing off a flash of bicep as he gathered empty tankards and set off for the bar.

“So,” Seraphine said, inching closer to me. Stars glittered above and narrow candlesticks flickered on tables, casting soft yellow light across her flushed face. She took one of my hands, cradling it between hers. “Sounds to me like you’re not sure what comes next for you.”

“That’s literally what she said,” Talani muttered. Nisse elbowed her.

“My nan was touched with the sight,” Seraphine whispered, tilting her head in my direction. She rubbed the back of my hand before flipping it over, narrowing her eyes as she stared at my palm.

“Here we go,” Talani said, rolling her eyes. “A couple of drinks and she starts with all that mystic nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense,” Seraphine said. She hiccupped. “Excuse me.”

Talani barked a laugh. “It’s rubbish. A trickster’s art. And you know that.”

The flush in Seraphine’s cheeks deepened. “Just because you don’t believe it, doesn’t mean it’s rubbish. And I’ll have you know…” Her words trailed off as her fingertip ran along the lines on my palm. “Mmm, yes. I see now.”

Nisse’s lips twitched as she caught my eye. I bit my cheek to keep from laughing, indulging Seraphine’s drunk musings.

Talani crossed her arms and slumped back in her chair. I understood her reluctance and suspicion. Cai’amar was a land that didn’t believe in such things as enchantments or illusions or divination. Even a bit of palmistry, however silly it might sound, would be frowned upon in most circles. And in front of actual authority? It just wasn’t spoken about.

A person didn’t typically mention magic unless they wanted to attract the wrong kind of attention from the kingsguard. But here, now, with a bit of alcohol in me and Seraphine tripping over words. Well, it was just a bit of silly fun.

“Ah, sweet girl. You’re looking for something,” Seraphine said.

“You should be looking for your good sense,” Talani quipped.

Seraphine stroked my palm. “Something fulfilling.”

My thoughts drifted to the sketchbook hidden in the cottage. The one I’d hastily stuffed away when Nisse had dropped by earlier.