Page 53 of Under Restless Skies

Light comes in from minuscule sunholes at the top of the walls. I know that some of these have lenses augmenting the sun, and I think it’s the case here. The room is as large as the entire Grease & Spice or Alayel’s royal room, and has some rocks, a box with earth, another with sand, a basin with water, and some potted plants, probably to mimic the dragons’ natural environment. Of course, it’s not the same. The air here is stuffy, and the little dragons won’t be able to smell the ocean breeze or the rain. It’s nothing like the island where they would have been born.

I pause and smother any regret that threatens to emerge. These little dragons would be bonded and enslaved by riders. While this room might not be perfect, it will keep them safe, at least for now. Once the dragons are bigger and stronger, they’ll be free. Truly free.

But where are the little dragons? Maybe I’m wrong, and the baskets Katrine and the man carried had something else. They could be preparing this nursery for the hatchlings.

No. They’re here.

A dark blue little head pops up from behind a small rock, and I exhale, so much relief coursing through me. It’s Ava, and I rush to her.

“You little rascal, how did you get here?”

She flies up just a palm, landing on the rock, and I take her in my arms again.

“How did you disappear?”

She emits a soft chirp, and I could swear it sounds as if she’s laughing at me. Maybe I’m a silly human, but I still don’t understand how she came to my room and how she appeared here.

“Where’s your brother?” I ask, my voice as quiet as I can make it.

I’m assuming the other hatchling is male, or perhaps I’m guessing it.

Ava coos.

I whisper, “You know, I’ll need to study dragon speech. Maybe then we can have a conversation. Can you even talk? You’re what? A day old? My brother couldn’t babble anything until he was over six months old.”

Ava wiggles in my lap and coos, and I want to hug her tight and kiss her soft skin, but I don’t even know if I can do that. I’ll need to take some time and read all I can about baby dragons.

She then chirps again, but it sounds different, a little higher.

I turn and see a little gray tail fidgeting behind a potted tree.

“Is that your brother?” I ask Ava, and she chirps. “But he’s shy, right?”

Ava emits a long, lovely coo. Slowly, I walk to that tree and see the cutest gray dragon trembling, his body pressed firmly against the pot.

I crouch slowly, and say, “Hello, there.”

The gray dragon looks at me, his deep gray eyes curious, intrigued, but also examining me, judging. As small as he is, his eyes are still dragon eyes, carrying all the power and fury contained in these creatures—and the magic too.

I’m not sure what magic, but I feel a current of power, something like I felt only when hit by that force coming from the rider’s staff.

Do dragons have magic other than healing? I set the thought aside as another question I need to ask, or perhaps find the answer in books—if they have that answer.

For now, I want to calm down the gray dragon. Unlike his sister, he’s terrified of me.

“Hey there,” I murmur in the gentlest voice I can make. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The little dragon keeps staring at me, while his sister coos. He looks from her to me, still thinking. Then he runs, faster than I could imagine such a young creature could run, and disappears behind a rock.

“Should I leave him alone?” I ask Ava.

She chirps twice, quite loudly this time.

“I’m not sure if you’re telling me to stop annoying him or to try to calm him down.”

Ava chirps again, her tone insistent—or at least it’s what I’m guessing.

I approach the rock in soft steps. “Hello, little dragon. Are you playing hide and seek?”