Page 71 of The Infirmary for Dragon Burns and Midair Mishaps

A chorus of giggles drifted past me as a small group of children raced up the path to get a better look at the Wretch.

“Hey! Keep away from there,” I called loudly. They jumped, giggling and urging each other on, torn between disobeying an order from an adult and satisfying that childlike curiosity.

I imagined the stories they would tell in the future of the day they’d stood close enough to touch the Wretch. It would have been something I’d done as a child, probably dragging Trystan along with me.

One of the boys in the group turned to me, his dark eyebrows arched with mischief. “Is it true the king will make swords out of the beast’s teeth when it’s dead?”

“The king has no intention of killing this dragon,” I told him.

“That’s not what the elders are saying in town.”

“Even if he wanted to, no one can kill this dragon. Does it look like an arrow could pierce its hide?”

The boy pursed his lips, then shook his head.

“You’d better watch your step then. Never think you have the upper hand where a wild dragon is concerned, got it? That’s rule number one when it comes to wrangling.”

“I fancy I could be a wrangler one day.”

“Not if you keep inching in the direction of that cage.”

He nodded, giving me a cheeky grin.

I flicked my hand toward the square. “Scatter. Before I make a visit to your parents.”

He gave an exaggerated sigh, then nudged his friends, the group of them slumping their way back to town, complaining about me ruining their good fun.

And they could complain all they wanted. Children didn’t know better. I certainly hadn’t when I’d jumped on that horse all those years ago, only to break my leg beyond repair.

This was too close for their own good. The last thing I needed was to be carting them off to the infirmary. Eden would have my head.

I pressed on, walking up to the mouth of the tent where a thin sheet of burgundy fabric flapped in the breeze.

“Halt!” a soldier called. He surged through the doorway, his hand on the hilt of the sword at his waist. “Announce yourself.”

I staggered to a stop, feet kicking up dust. “I’m here to speak with Trystan Frixsar,” I told him. “Can you please let him know?”

Instead of retrieving my brother, he narrowed his eyes behind his helmet. I could just make out that beady stare sizing me up. I had half a mind to knock him upside the head with my fist and rattle a bit of sense into him. The rest of the company probably wouldn’t take too kindly to that, however. “What business do you have with him?” he demanded, spit flying from between his mouth guard.

I jerked back from the saliva, resisting the urge to shove this kid right out of my way and march into the tent myself. I wasn’t afraid of him or his sword. He probably didn’t even know what to do with it.

“Easy, Grady,” a voice boomed. Trystan appeared behind him, clapping the soldier on the chestplate, the sound rattling like dropped pots. “I’ve got this. Why don’t you go do a perimeter check? Report back to the captain when you’re done.”

The soldier saluted Trystan, who clearly outranked him, and then stalked off around the tent. “The kid looks like he should still be in school,” I muttered.

Trystan pulled off his helmet, and I saw the concern in his eyes. “We had to call for reinforcements while in the mountains,” he admitted. “Some of them came directly from the academy.”

“Did he even finish his training? I’d hate to see him wield a blade.”

“Barely,” Trystan muttered. He set off walking away from the tent, putting some distance between us and anyone that might overhear. I hurried after him. His eyes landed on the second roll in my hand. “That for me?”

“Only the best Ember Ridge has to offer,” I said, handing it over. I smiled as he bit into it and groaned. I didn’t know what exactly he’d faced in those mountains. But judging by the injured that had returned with the company, and the fact they’d had to call for reinforcements, I could guess. There was no comfort I could give him that would take away those now haunted weeks, but at least I could feed him. “You look like you’ve settled in. Almost overnight.”

He glanced around, lowering his voice. “We’ve called for more reinforcements.”

“Again?” I said.

“The captain won’t admit it out loud, but we had more injuries than he expected in those mountains.”