Page 37 of The Infirmary for Dragon Burns and Midair Mishaps

But to deliver the news that Trystan had been wounded or… worse? My father would never forgive me for that. Thankfully, Trystan seemed to understand.

He picked up his tankard and downed it in two massive gulps. “I’ll be careful. Now, how about another drink?”

13

EDEN

I jumped out of bed, taking half the covers with me as someone pounded on my door. Was there a burn accident? Who was out riling up the dragons in the dark? It must have been well past midnight judging by the position of the moon out the window.

My heart raced as I grabbed my shawl from the rocking chair, tossing it over my shoulders, and lit the candle on my desk. I picked it up by the base and flung the front door wide open. Confusion set in, first like a drip at the back of my skull, and then in a flooding rush as I blinked at Vaela.

She stood there in the doorway of Bramble Cottage, hair loose, cheekbones sharply shadowed, those gray eyes twinkling in the candlelight. The sight sobered me quickly, the sleep fog fading. “What in all the stars is wrong?”

I peered past her into the darkness, looking for whatever injured person she’d dragged to my door.

But there was no one. The darkness was quiet.

I turned my gaze back to Vaela, holding the candle higher, my nose twitching at a familiar scent. She blinked at me once, then grinned. Not one of the small, corner-of-the-mouth twitches she favored, but a grin so wide she didn’t even look like herself.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded.

She held her finger to her lips, hushing me. “I have news.”

Then she giggled.

Giggled? I didn’t even think the woman was capable of such a sound, and that proved my hunch instantly. Beyond the musk of pine and leather polish, she smelled of alcohol.

“Did you go swimming in a barrel of beer?” I complained. Was Vaela Frixsar really standing at my door in the middle of the night because she was drunk?

“I took my brother to the Wiggly Dragon Tooth.”

I could have guessed as much. “Smells like you had a good time.”

“It was very… enlightening,” she said, hiccupping.

“You’re drunk. I don’t know what you possibly could have learned at the bottom of a tankard.”

“I am… slightly tipsy,” she agreed. “And seeing as I was in the neighborhood, I have come to wish you a good night.”

“This is the opposite direction from the nesting shed.”

“I am taking the scenic route.”

“Right to my garden?” I shook my head at her. “Why didn’t you just fly home?”

“I’ve had a little too much to think,” she said.

“You mean drink?”

“That’s what I said.”

I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. Slightly drunk Vaela was far more endearing than regular old, grumpy Vaela. She was someone I could actually see myself enjoying my time with. By the stars! What was I saying?

I shook off that delusional thought, lifting my hand. “If you need me to point you in the right direction⁠—”

She caught my hand, her palm wrapping around my finger. “It wouldn’t be safe for me to fly right now. I’d likely slip off.” She lifted her other hand like she was whispering a secret. “Especially after that Drakon Stout.”

Warmth crept down my arm where she held me, and an unusual sensation tingled at the top of my spine. “I’m sure Min wouldn’t let you fall.”