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Rodriguez nodded. “At least, that’s my theory.”

“What about the dragons who can … change? Like Blake. How do they breed?” Florence asked suddenly. “How did we get high-bloods who could do this in the first place?”

“If a dragon can transform—shift like Blake can—then they can only reproduce while in their highblood form. At least, that’s my understanding.” Rodriguez looked thoughtful. “You have to understand, there haven’t been dragons like this to study in a very long time. And dragons like Viktor and Blake would have been a closely guarded highblood secret. I’m not even sure any existed outside the Drakharrow bloodline.” He grinned suddenly. “As for the very first one? Well, I should think the answer to how that happened would be fairly obvious.”

Florence looked scandalized. But I wasn’t interested in talking about dragon breeding anymore.

“Blake will die without my blood,” I pointed out. “He’s still essentially a highblood, right? He can’t stay in dragon form forever?”

Rodriguez shook his head. “I don’t think so. Yes, I believe that you’re right. At some point, he will need to return to feed from you.”

“And if he doesn’t he’ll die,” I said flatly. “And we have no idea where he is.”

“That seems to sum it up,” said Rodriguez, looking somewhat sympathetic.

“And you idiots frightened him away just when I’d convinced him not to …” I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m going to find him. I’m going to undo this. I’m going to fucking kill Vorago. And Blake—” I choked “—Blake is going to be fine. He’ll make amends for what he’s done. Whatever he’s done, there’s still good inside him.”

“Well, that would certainly be the optimal outcome,” Rodriguez agreed softly.

“If Blake is getting weaker without you, then Vorago must be, too,” Florence pointed out. “There’s an upside to every downside.”

I shot her a look of disbelief. “Only you would ever say something like that.”

She smiled slightly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. That’s why I love you.” I reached for her hand and squeezed it.

Rodriguez studied me. “Are you sure you can’t reach Blake somehow?”

“No,” I said, giving him a strange look. “How would I?”

“Medra,” Florence said gently, “aren’t you forgetting?”

I stared at her. “The bond. Like with Nyxaris.” She nodded. “But if I’m Blake’s true rider, why didn’t the bond activate? I can’t sense him. I can’t hear him.” The lump in my throat was back.

“Maybe he’s shutting you out,” Rodriguez suggested. “Or maybe he doesn’t know how to speak to you.”

“Or maybe Vorago’s not letting him,” Florence pointed out. She turned to me. “Nyxaris has told me a little about Vorago. He’s not like the other three dragons. He didn’t volunteer to be in the Dragon Court, he was conscripted.” She looked awkward. “It sounds as if they’d all done some things they regretted. Nyxaris wanted to sacrifice himself, so did Molindra and Alabryss. But they forced Vorago to join them. He didn’t want to. And now …”

“Now?” I echoed.

She paled a little. “Now Vorago wants revenge on Nyxaris. Probably on all three of the others.”

“Well, one is still stone, so I think Alabryss is safe. But Nyxaris …” I looked at her thoughtfully. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

She nodded slowly. “I’ll speak to Nyxaris. But I think so.”

Rodriguez’s face grew concerned. “We need your dragon, Florence. If this involves putting Nyxaris in any danger—”

“Then, it’s not really your concern, Professor,” she said sweetly. “My dragon makes his own decisions. I don’t control him.”

Rodriguez flushed. “Right.”

“And if he wants to help Medra save Blake, then I’m not going to stand in his way. I’ll fly on his back and be right there with him.” She met my eyes.

Rodriguez groaned. “Understood.”

“Well, everyone, I think this meeting is now, finally, adjourned.”