Page 82 of The Bond That Burns

“Academic pursuits, hmm?” Jia looked back and forth between us, and I got the feeling I wasn’t fooling her. “And what academic pursuits are you here for this evening, Medra?”

“Dragons as usual,” I said with a sigh.

“Ah, yes, the dragon project.” Jia tapped a finger to her chin. “I must admit, I’m rarely stumped but this research project of yours has been more challenging than I’d expected.”

I’d told Florence what I was searching for and why, but we’d decided Jia didn’t need to know all the details—such as the fact that I didn’t have a handle on Nyxaris and could be scorched to death at any time or executed by the Tribunal for failure to perform.

“I’ve been through a good portion of our archives, and the results have been very frustrating,” Jia continued.

“Still nothing useful?” I asked, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice. If Jia couldn’t find anything in the Bloodwing Library, what hope could I possibly have of turning up what Nyxaris needed?

But then, there was still Professor Rodriguez. Our first thrallguard session was coming up.

“We have plenty of books on dragons,” Jia said. “Dragon physiology, dragon lore, a very few suspect treatises by blightborn scholars who clearly never encountered a dragon in their lives. Most of the authors writing about dragons were highbloods, however, and they often have very opposing views about dragons, usually contradictory ones. In any case, when it comes to the disappearance of dragons—such a monumental event in our history—there’s almost nothing.”

I frowned. “What about records from the dragon riders? Surely they—”

“So far, not a single firsthand account that I can find,” Jia interrupted gently. “If they existed—and I think they must have, they seem to have been destroyed or hidden away long ago. It’s infuriating. And fascinating.”

“Fascinating?” Florence echoed, looking dubious.

Jia gave her daughter a wry smile. “Well, yes. You know I love a good mystery.” She looked back at me. “In any case, I’ve taken drastic measures.”

My eyes widened. “Drastic?”

“Yes, I’ve resorted to a letter-writing campaign. I’ve reached out to a number of librarians at schools and other academic institutes across Sangratha, asking if they can help.”

“Interlibrary loans?” Florence said. “I thought you said they were a pain to process.”

“Yes, well, when we lend books out to other libraries we seem to only receive two-thirds of them back again and half are damaged,” Jia complained. “But in this case, that’s a good thing. I’m owed many favors.” She smiled down at me complacently. “I hope to hear back from some colleagues soon.”

“Thank you for going to all this trouble for me, Jia,” I said. “It’s very kind of you. But I’m sorry to add to your workload.”

She waved a hand. “Nonsense. You’re a student here, after all. This is part of my job.”

I glanced at Florence, slightly guilty that we’d told Jia this was all for another paper I was writing for Professor Rodriguez.

“Anyhow, I’ll keep digging, Medra. There’s always something. Even if it’s buried deep. The truth never disappears entirely. Even when people would like it to.”

Before I could respond, a blur of motion shot past us, knocking into a shelf of books.

“Neville!” Jia exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air as the fluffin turned around and zoomed beneath our table, his fluffy tail wagging furiously. “No, bad Neville,” Jia said sternly, shaking a finger at him.

“Come here, Neville,” Florence implored, pushing her chair back and holding her arms out to the fluffin. “Come to Florence. There’s a good boy.”

But Neville only paused long enough to give another yip before speeding off into the stacks again.

That ridiculous little dog again,my mother tsked.What is that animal doing here? Don’t tell me your friend believed she could teach him to read.

How many times must I tell you? He is not a dog. He’s a fluffin. And no,I added.I doubt even Florence was that ambitious.

I’ve never seen such a silly creature in my life.But there was an affectionate tone to her voice.

I’m sure Neville would take that as high praise,I said wryly.

“Not again,” Florence groaned, burying her face in her hands. “He followed me in here and we’ve been trying to get him out ever since.”

“If one of the other librarians notices him...” Jia wrung her hands.

---