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“It’s dangerous, Ker.”

She nodded. “Sorry. I need to find Helly.”

And she knew with urgency that she really needed to find Helly.

“Mistress Hellina is assisting with preparations for the competitors,” Mistress Moran said, appearing at her side. “She will be here when the ceremony starts. Move along now.”

Kerrigan opened her mouth to argue, but Darby took her hand and squeezed. Kerrigan swallowed what she had been about to say and followed. She didn’t know what the protesters had been doing in her vision. She didn’t know if it had something to do with Fordham or her testing… or if the Red Masks would show. She didn’t know anything. As much as she hated her visions, she wished they were more specific.

She wanted to go find Helly and deal with this. But this was her night to celebrate. Maybe her last night ever with her friends all together like this. She would tell Helly later. After.

* * *

Kerrigan felt more commodity than human.

The Dragon Blessed stood single file atop a small stage overlooking the sea of influential persons. The ceremony was a high honor, but somehow, she still felt like she was on display, for purchase.

Her green eyes drifted across the sea of people. Every one of them was a wealthy, full citizen. More than a few were Society members. Though they weren’t in their black robes. The room was alight with color for the party after the ceremony concluded. Men in fresh suits and brightly colored robes. Women in elaborate ballgowns with glittering gemstones at their throats and wrists and ears. It was a cacophony.

She found her father standing near the back, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He was staring not at her, but with distaste at another man a few feet in front of him. Even without his Society robes, Kerrigan recognized Lorian’s black skin, strong build, and severe features. His wife stood at his side, beautiful and luminous with a medium-brown complexion and a proud tilt of her chin. She didn’t see their daughter, Alura, the winner of the last dragon tournament.

Kerrigan kept searching until she found Ellerby. He was a short, aging man with a bald patch at the top of his head. He hunched forward slightly with a curved spine, and he had his customary cane in his hand. People speculated that he was arched so because he refused to use his magic. That not using it withered the person from the inside. Kerrigan had no idea if that was true. People would say anything to condemn someone without magic.

By the time Mistress Moran took the stage, Helly still wasn’t in attendance. Kerrigan frowned. She wondered where Helly was. Should she have broken protocol to tell her about the protest being the one from her vision? Unease settled deeper into her bones.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for attending the annual Dragon Blessed ceremony,” Mistress Moran said. “As you know, we at the House of Dragons take great pride in the young souls that we are able to assist within Draco Mountain. The twenty-three bright minds you see before you have lived and worked inside the mountain alongside Society members and dragons. Their training has been extensive, and we’re pleased with the educational advancement of each and every one of our pupils.”

The crowd applauded the introduction. Kerrigan’s heart lessened at the words. They were likely scripted, but from Moran, they were heartfelt. She’d meant everything she said. Even though Kerrigan had been a thorn in her side, she still was proud of her on this day.

“Thousands of years before we stood on Alandrian soil, dragons ruled the island. Our history was fraught. The battles plentiful. Too many Fae and dragons alike died from those ancient battles. But it was one Fae maiden, Irena, who turned the tide of history. She negotiated a compromise, a truce, with the great dragon Ferrinix. And out of that came the first ever dragon bond. Fae and dragon linked until death. Anyone who would take a bond or bow to the supremacy of the dragon-bound society could live in peace. The Irena Bargain still lives today,” Mistress Moran said, quoting their history in hushed, worshipful tones. “And because of Irena’s great bravery, the Society rules all of Alandria. From the western forests of Woodloch to the eastern shores of Viland. To the high northern mountains of Tosin, all the way to the plains of Moran.” Mistress Moran respectfully bowed her head at the mention of her namesake.

“The tribes moved throughout the land, bound to the Dragon Society and its new government. Eventually settled to the twelve that we know and love today. In Woodloch, the warrior tribes, Venatrix, Herasi, and Galanthea. In Viland, the healing tribes, Bryonica, Concha, and Ibarra. In Tosin, the efficiency tribes, Zavala, Sayair, and Erewa. And in Moran, the tribes that resist magic’s call, Elsiande, Aude, and Genoa.”

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