AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Santha thinks carefully about this. “We can brush your hair. Lay out your dresses.”
“I can brush my own hair and put on my own dresses.”
Posette’s eyes gleam with excitement. “There’s supposed to be all sorts of intrigue at a royal court. We can relay secret messages to handsome knights.”
“There aren’t any knights here.”
“Handsome dragonriders, then,” Santha says.
I laugh and go back to churning the butter. “If you want to send messages to dragonriders, go right ahead.”
“Maybe I will,” Santha says with a smile. “Have you seen that tall, white-haired dragonrider? He’s gorgeous and so fierce.”
I scowl at the memory of Stesha calling me a brat. “Don’t bother writing letters to him. He’s mean, and he’s not even handsome.”
Posette stares at me in astonishment. “Are you crazy? Every time he walks past, I feel like I’m about to have a nosebleed he’s so sexy.”
I sniff in derision. Stesha wishes he were a tenth as good-looking as Zabriel.
When I’m not working, I find myself drawn to the Flame Temple. The carved obsidian walls seem to absorb the heat of the ceremonial flame, and the hushed space is always warm, even though it is open to the sky. One of the Temple Mothers teaches me to meditate, and I sit cross-legged on a mat with my eyes closed, my mind drifting as I’m dimly aware of the sinuous pattern of the flames behind my eyelids.
Sometimes I’ll open my eyes to find three or four baby dragons fast asleep around me. Hatchlings, they’re called. They can’t yet fly and their mothers drop them through the open ceiling on their way to patrol the skies or hunt. They flutter clumsily to the ground, wings frantically flapping. When they land, they shake themselves off from snout to tail and then find somewhere comfortable to snooze. I suppose they find their own way back to the dragongrounds eventually.
As I’m sitting and meditating one day, I hear a beating of strong wings and guess that one of the dragon mothers is passing overhead with her young. The flapping grows louder and louder, and I open my eyes to see a turquoise and gold dragon descending into the temple. She flies in tight circles until she lands on the temple floor with a click of talons and a gust of wind that sends the flame dancing around in the font.
There’s an outraged cry from the other side of the temple, and the Temple Crone marches forward, her red robes billowing behind her. “Esmeral! What do you think you are doing?”
The turquoise dragon scuttles behind me and cowers as if she’s hiding, which makes my mouth twitch considering that she’s as long as a corridor.
“Are fledgling dragons not meant to come into the Flame Temple?” I ask, pleased that I’ve remembered what young dragons who can fly are called.
“Esmeral is not a fledgling. She may be small, but she’s almost fully mature, and her designation is emerging. Her place is with the flare, not in the temple.” The Temple Crone points to the open sky and glowers at the dragon. “Out of here at once, or I’ll speak with the dragonmaster about you.”
Esmeral lowers her head, hunches her shoulders, and smoke pours from her nostrils. She looks like she’s sulking. The dragon and the Temple Mother stare at each other for a moment, and then Esmeral huffs and takes off. If a dragon can be said to flounce into the air, then Esmeral does. I watch her circle upward, then disappear into the sky.
“What a strange dragon she is,” I say, watching her.
“Esmeral is unusually strong-minded for what she is,” says the Temple Crone as she begins to turn away. “She will be very like her rider, I believe.”
I scramble to my feet, unwilling to waste this opportunity to talk to the crone. “Could I please ask you something, Grandmother?”
When she pauses, I hurry to her side.
“I’m aware that you and the Temple Mothers are meditating on the barrier to the south. I wonder if I can offer you any assistance in that matter.”
Maybe I should have stopped atCould I please ask you something, Grandmother?The Temple Crone’s amethyst eyes bore into mine, and the sharp silence goes on and on. I seem to have gravely offended her.
Finally, she says, “Yes, your help would be appreciated, Lady Isavelle.”
“It would?” I ask in amazement.
She smiles a little. “Not with the barrier, but there are some duties that we would be grateful for you to fulfill so that we may have more time to focus on the barrier. You grew up in western Maledin, I believe. Are you familiar with the tsetsor plant?”
“I think so. It has small, orange flowers and narrow leaves, and it blooms after a winter melt?”
“That is correct. The winds have been warmer these past two days, so the tsetsors should be blooming in the fields below the city walls. If you could collect me a basketful of tsetsor tubers I would be grateful. We use these to enhance our meditations.”
A task that will take me beyond the city walls. I will need to take Dusan and Fiala with me, and they will want Zabriel’s permission before taking me outside.
