Page 124 of The Fifth Heir

“That puts you ahead of most people who want one.”

She looked up at the dark crystal ceiling. “I wanted to shift.”

“Still past tense?”

Her fingers moved over the wrap around her wrist.

“No.”

The word was barely audible.

I followed her gaze upward.

The ceiling began to clear.

Darkness receded, revealing an opening high above the garden. Stars appeared through it, sharp and bright. The walls had not enclosed a buried courtyard at all. The Fifth Wing had created open sky where no opening should exist.

Talia stared.

“Have you ever flown?” I asked.

“On an air carriage.”

“That does not count.”

“It left the ground.”

“So does a thrown rock.”

“No one has offered to throw me.”

“Torren might if you call it training.”

She laughed.

The sound carried through the garden.

More crystal flowers opened.

I looked toward the clearing beneath the open sky.

It was large enough for a dragon to shift.

More than large enough to launch.

Dragons carried each other from battle when they had no choice. We did not offer our backs casually. A rider sat between the wings, above the vulnerable line of the spine, trusted with balance and direction while the dragon surrendered the sky beneath them both.

“Tomorrow,” I said.

Talia followed my attention. “What happens tomorrow?”

“You fly.”

Her smile disappeared. “I don’t have wings.”

“I do.”

The garden runes turned gold.