Page 26 of Swift Wings Shadowed Heart
“Are Trueno and Zephyros coming?” Vaylen asks.
There’s a rumble in Fragor’s chest, his answer. All Skyriders learn to interpret their dragons’ different sounds. Those who are bonded go a step further. It’s said they can communicate at a more subtle level, a sort of understanding of each other’s feelings, for lack of a better word.
Vaylen turns to us and says, “The dragons will be here shortly.”
And one of them will be mine! But wait?What were their names? My excitement and the roar of my heartbeat in my ears are so distracting that I didn’t quite register them. I feel one of them sounded familiar.
Thethump, thump, thumpof wings sounds again.
“Ah, they’re here,” Vaylen says.
The dragons land in unison, the ground shaking again, then walk across the width of the plateau to join us. I lift my head just a little and catch a glimpse of two more sets of silver talons, one with ebony claws, the other one with ivory ones. Ebony? Something stirs in my memory. Wind dragons are silver with ivory claws, spikes, and horns. Except for…
Wyrm’s rot!Merrill Pyrewing’s dragon had ebony traits. That’s why the creature’s name sounded familiar. Zephyros was Merrill’s dragon, the same one Silas said was responsible for his brother’s accident.
An ill-tempered creature who left a Skysinger paralyzed…Goddess, please, don’t let him choose me!
13
Rhea
“Are they ready?” Vaylen asks his dragon.
Fragor’s chest rumbles.
“Good. They may approach then.”
Another rumble from Fragor, and the other two come closer. Zephyros blows air as if huffing. This creature has a reputation that precedes him. He’s one of the oldest dragons alive, rumored to be one of Heratrix’s favorite males. I still remember when he chose Merrill. We had just finished our first year at Aerie Academy, and Silas couldn’t stop talking about it. He kept saying that Zephyros was just the kind of dragon his family lineage attracted.
After Merrill’s accident, however, Silas had nothing but bad things to say. He said theanimal—he actually used that word as if a dragon were a cow—didn’t know his place, didn’t know how to follow orders from his rider. He said Zephyros was a menace and should be exterminated.
The audacity of it! His family might be close to royalty—one of his cousins is married to the King’s brother—but the entire Pyrewing lot isn’t worth one dragon’s death. There are enough pompous jerks in Embernia already, and not enough dragons. It’s the reason our realm is in danger of being invaded by the Screechclaws.
I can’t help but feel there’s more to the story, something Silas isn’t sharing or something his brother is lying about. Then again… Zephyros’s reputation. It exists for a reason.
Fragor makes another sound, which Vaylen translates for us. “You may look at the dragons.”
Dammit, I don’t think I can.
I’m terrified. My knees are shaking and…
Stop it, Rhea. You trained for this.
Slowly, I raise my head. My gaze climbs up Zephyros’s black-clawed talons. They seem to go on forever. A massive chest appears, armored with silver scales, the distance between them expanding with each breath. Next comes a long neck, ridged with deadly looking spines, protrusions as shiny and polished as obsidian. I stop there, feeling my insides tremble. Zephyros’s formidable head lowers, which is topped with two perfectly straight horns as sharp as swords, and a set of pure silver eyes meet mine, one slashed across with a terrible jagged scar.
An electrifying feeling thunders down my body, jolting my back straight and setting my teeth on edge. Primal fear nearly loosens my bladder, and I tighten my legs against the humiliating feeling. I want to run, want to at least look away, but I can’t. I’m ensnared in that gaze, trapped without hope of ever being set free again.
“Oh, no!” Vaylen whispers under his breath. “Step back, both of you.”
What?I barely register the words.
“NOW!” Vaylen hisses under clenched teeth, getting in front of Gilbert and me.
Vaylen breaks the connection, releasing me from the dragon’s gaze. Gilbert takes several steps back. His face is void of all color. I retreat too. I have no idea what’s happening, but this isn’t the time to ignore orders. I throw a cautious glance over my shoulder. The edge of the plateau is still a safe distance away, but still too close for comfort.
“What’s happening?” Gilbert asks in a voice two octaves higher than normal.
I shake my head, not daring to speak.
