Page 34 of The Infirmary for Dragon Burns and Midair Mishaps

“Hear that?” I whispered.

“It’s… humming.”

“And that’s at rest. When she’s exerting herself, her heart damn near sounds like it’s singing.”

Eden pulled away. “That’s incredible.”

“She’s incredible,” I said, giving Min a pat. And she was dying. Pressure swelled behind my eyes. I quickly stuffed the feelings down into the box where I so often buried them.

“How, uh… How long do they…” Eden cleared her throat, not sure how to phrase it, but I knew what she wanted to ask.

“She’s heading toward the end of her wrangling days,” I said diplomatically. “That’s why finding a way to give her that lake is so important to me. So she has somewhere to retire⁠—”

Min snorted. She didn’t like to discuss stepping away from wrangling. It’s all we’d ever known together.

“I’m sorry,” Eden said. She reached out and tentatively stroked one of Min’s scales. “Would it be better to retire somewhere else? With a lake you didn’t have to fight for?”

“Perhaps,” I said. “But this has been our home for a long time now. I wouldn’t want to take that from her, too.”

Eden stared at me, her eyes wide, glassy. Min’s body gave off heat, but I was on fire. It was like the flame was licking through my veins. I wanted to reach for Eden, to pull her close. I wanted to know if she felt the same fire I did.

Min shifted, releasing a puff of steam from her nostrils, and Eden jumped, giving a tiny yelp.

I chuckled under my breath, reaching to tuck a blond coil of hair away from her face. She let me, and that felt like some kind of victory. “I don’t understand how a burn nurse can be so jumpy around dragons.”

“Dragons aren’t the problem,” Eden insisted, turning slightly pink. Her lips almost grazed the back of my hand as she shifted her head.

I quickly released that tendril of hair. She didn’t elaborate, but her answer intrigued me. “Does this have something to do with what happened the other night at the pub?”

“I don’t want to talk about that,” she murmured.

“Eden—”

Min hissed suddenly, her head snapping up to the sky. A moment later, a hideous shriek rang out like distant thunder. It belonged to something big.

Eden stared at the clouds through the trees, that long neck on display. I watched her throat work. “Is that⁠—”

“The Wretch.” I nodded. “It’s drawing closer to Ember Ridge.”

12

VAELA

“So what exactly is the play here?” I asked quietly, staring at Trystan across the small wooden table of the still-to-be repaired pub. A candle flickered between us, painting his face in golden shadows. “Intercept it from town?”

Trystan shook his head, sipping the last of his Drakon Stout. “That’s too dangerous.”

I snorted. “I’ll say.” Trying to take down the Wretch anywhere near Ember Ridge would likely result in injuries, never mind damage to the town. And most folks would probably appreciate not having to rebuild this close to winter. “If, by the stars, you actually managed to bring the Wretch down, it would crash through half the square. Not to mention the kind of fight it would put up. Has your captain even considered that?”

“Speaking of fights,” he said, gesturing toward the damaged courtyard. “You clearly have enough of that going on around here.”

I gave him a flat look. “It’s always a hazard of the migration. But a regular-sized dragon is one thing. The Wretch⁠—”

Ilona drew near with an empty tray on her hip, gray curls piled high on her head, and I trailed off.

“Anything else over here?”

“Another round, please, m’lady,” Trystan said, winking at her. She rolled her eyes in response, giving him a cheeky grin as she walked away with our empty tankards.