Page 106 of The Bond That Burns

Yes, you have my sincere gratitude, O Great One,I said hurriedly.

He sniffed.Don’t start with that again. Dragons can tell when you really mean it.

I do mean it,I protested.You are great. And you do have my gratitude.

Hmph.But I could sense him preening a little. I felt a sudden impulse to rub his head just between his ears like I might do to Neville. I knew better though.So, I’ll take that as a yes? You’ll do what’s on the list?

For your sake, little mortal, I shall endure the indignity. But if anyone dares to clap, I will not be held responsible for what happens next.

I stifled a laugh.Understood. Now stop circling. We need to put on a show.

Nyxaris tilted his wings suddenly and we plummeted into a dive. The air screamed past my ears. I held tight to the ridges of his neck as below us I saw the crowd react.

With an abrupt pull, Nyxaris leveled out above the field, his huge shadow sweeping over the assembly.

A platform had been set up and as we flew over it I spotted the Tribunal members, seated in their dark robes. Then I saw Florence, seated stiffly beside Catherine Mortis, her hands folded tightly in her lap. On her other side was Blake, just like he’d promised.

I stiffened. A small girl was sitting next to him. Aenia. My stomach dropped at the sight of the highblood child. What was it Blake had told me other highbloods called people like her? Foulbloods. I scowled as I remembered the horrid name.

Blake was looking up at me. For a brief moment, our gazes locked. He gave me a small nod, almost unnoticeable, and I felt a mix of reassurance and unease. I was grateful to him for staying close to Florence. But if he was up there with Aenia, it meant Viktor was pulling his strings again—and I hated that.

Stop brooding. It’s time.Nyxaris’s voice jolted me back to the present.

Fine. Let’s show them what you’ve got.

He rose, his wings catching the wind with a crack. We soared higher and higher, until the crowd below us shrank to specks. Then Nyxaris twisted slightly, plummeting downwards in a spiraling dive that left me too breathless to even scream. He pulled up at the last moment, his claws skimming the tops of the cliffs as he executed a series of tight rolls and sharp turns.

Each maneuver was precise, fluid, and terrifyingly fast.

Was that on the list?I managed to get out, as I clung tightly.

No. That was me warming up.He didn’t bother hiding his smugness.

“Show-off,” I muttered out loud.Are you sure we can’t see about getting a saddle made? You might make it through today’s evaluation but I’m not so sure about me.

Calm yourself, child. Do you think the riders of old required saddles and straps to stay atop their dragons?Nyxaris chided.

I narrowed my eyes.What do you mean? They used saddles. You said so yourself.

They used them but they were mostly for show. Or for poor riders who could not manage without them. Weaklings.I could feel his contempt.The saddles and straps were emblazoned with house colors. They marked the dragons as possessions more than they protected the riders.

So you’re saying no one needs a saddle to ride a dragon?I was incredulous.

Not no one. But those with sufficiently strong rider blood should not require it. Your body was made for this.

I looked down at what I could see of myself. My fingers and toes were slightly longer than the average human’s. When I first arrived in Sangratha, the highbloods had spoken of doing experiments on me—to measure bone structure and density. I already knew I had quicker reflexes than blightborn did. That was why Sankara had let me continue taking combat classes alongside his highblood students.

Your skin is heat-resistant, too, Nyxaris added.

I beg your pardon. Are you saying I can’t be harmed by fire?

I said you are heat-resistant, not inflammable,he corrected.If I directed the full strength of my flames towards you, you would burn. But more slowly.

I shuddered.Delightful.

It is a useful trait when one is in combat,he observed.

In combat with another dragon, you mean?

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