Page 66 of The Infirmary for Dragon Burns and Midair Mishaps

She lowered one arm then, her hand seeking mine, letting our fingers tangle briefly. Her skin was warm, soft. A buzz zipped through my veins. It felt as if my entire body was vibrating.

“I don’t think I can stay away from you, Eden.”

“You have to. It’s for the best,” she said again, sounding unsure of herself.

“Is it?”

Her lips pulled into a thin line, her eyebrows knotted together. “It has to be. You and me. It could never work.”

“Why can’t we try anyway?” I asked, voice rough, feeling desperate. She’d once called me reckless, and I truly felt it now, begging for a chance.

She laughed, but the sound was hollow. Aching. The echo became a flutter of pain inside me. “It’s a bad idea.” She caught the edge of her bottom lip between her teeth. “I’d be setting myself up for the same fate as my mother. The same pain she lived through. If you care about me at all, you can’t ask that of me.”

I dropped her hand to cup her face, holding her jaw between my palms, tilting her eyes up to meet mine. “That was a terrible accident. A series of horrible circumstances that aligned in the worst possible way.” Her eyes glazed. “Eden, you can’t spend your whole life running away from the worst-case scenario.”

“I have to,” she whispered, taking a trembling step back. “It’s the only way I know how to survive.”

22

EDEN

I’d become good at surviving on my own.

I’d been doing it for years now.

And the best way I knew how was by throwing myself into work until my fingers ached and my eyes were too weary to remain open at the end of the night. Survival meant keeping myself busy enough not to think of Vaela.

Not to wonder after her.

Not to miss her.

Thankfully, the migration provided all the distractions I needed. I bought bouquets of snapdragons from flower carts and filled Bramble Cottage. I watched children parade through town square, showing off their homemade dragon costumes, with horns and wings and tails. I ventured out with Nisse and Matty to sample sweet treats from traveling merchants while we watched those rainbow herds soar overhead. Mostly, I hunkered down at the infirmary with the rest of the team, tending burns and injuries while Vaela wrangled dragons. Our paths only ever crossed when she dropped off the occasional tourist to be assessed, and even then, I went out of my way not to look at her.

Not to get lost in those gray eyes.

It was better this way, I told myself. Safer.

But safe no longer felt free. In fact, I was starting to feel a little strangled by Ember Ridge. I stared out of the window of the infirmary between patients, watching a strong breeze whip through the wildflowers at the edge of the path. The seasons were preparing to change, and perhaps I needed to change with them.

The door leading to the apothecary burst open suddenly, crashing against the wall hard enough to knock knick-knacks from a shelf.

“Gunther!” Poppy cried at the top of her lungs, looking windswept as she jumped up and down. “He’s back!” She raced across the room to the window. “Look, he’s back!”

Seraphine scrambled to fling the front door open, and we all crowded out behind her, filling the stoop with Gunther’s welcoming party.

“Look what the dragon blew in.” Seraphine whistled, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“Hi, Gunther!” Poppy called, waving at him as she giggled with excitement. “We missed you!”

Gunther beamed, and my smile immediately turned watery. “Aren’t you all a sight for sore eyes!”

Talani dropped her hands to her hips. “And where exactly have you been, hmm?”

“Out to run a little errand?” Matty teased, nudging Reo. “What’s that he said? I’ll be back in a jiff. Does this look like a jiff to you, old man?”

“I was off on an unexpectedly grand adventure,” Gunther said, throwing his arms up with an exaggerated flourish. Seraphine tutted in response and crossed her arms, but I noted the amused purse to her lips.

Gunther carried a single cloth pack over one shoulder, holes patched with scraps of leather, and held a walking stick in his other hand. His cloak was worn at the hemline and muddied from dragging on the ground. The toes of his shoes were threadbare, revealing his colorful socks beneath.