Page 68 of Court of Secrets and Flames

With a soft giggle at the image that pops in my head, I reach the fire paddock. “Hello, Chirean.”

The male dragon lifts his head, his golden eyes assessing me before he returns to basking. A snort of steam escapes his nostrils. I’m not exactly an expert in dragon body language—not yet—but I get the impression he’s not interested in taking me flying.

Toying with the end of my braid, I concentrate on the connection between us. The nudge against my mental wall is instant.

Disinterest. Contentment to stay here and enjoy the sun.

I lift an eyebrow at the dragon and sigh. “All right. Can’t say I blame you.”

Maybe I’ll just take a walk. I could get my bow and practice some archery. I’m already sore. A little more training won’t make a difference.

As I turn, movement in my periphery catches my attention. Dame stirs from her spot against the far wall, her scales shimmering like dark fire. She approaches with a grace that contradicts her growing size, muscles rippling beneath her hide. Her mind brushes against mine, her emotions a stark contrast to Chirean’s reluctance.

Eagerness. A restlessness that matches mine.

I flash her a grateful smile and stride toward her, waiting for her to lower her front leg to allow me to mount.

The guard who accompanied me to the fire paddock stands watch as the dragon takes off. While neither Jasper nor Knox have relented on a guard accompanying me, I made a strong case for my safety while on the back of a dragon. Only the most foolish assassin would attempt to kill me while I’m mounted on a creature that could burn them to a crisp with a single sigh.

The ground falls away as we lift into the air, the wind whizzing past us and tugging at my braid and wings until I manage to get lower on her back and tuck them down.

Below, the training grounds sprawl out in a mosaic of moving figures. Soldiers drill in formation, their movements a synchronized choreographed dance of discipline and strength. Maybe I’m paranoid, but it seems like there’s more activity now than when I first arrived, and I wonder if that’s a product of rising tensions between Aclaris and Tirene.

I lean forward, pressing my hand against Dame’s neck, urging her lower. Underneath the massive shadow we cast, the chaos stills, if only for a moment.

This isn’t the direction we usually take, but Dame seems insistent, and who am I to argue with a dragon? But as I scan the landscape for more signs of unrest, I know we’ve strayed farther than intended. When the landmarks shift, cold recognition dawns in my stomach.

I’ve only been here once before. The day Sterling carried me to Tirene.

We’re not just well south of the capital, but seriously far south, and still going. The ocean separating Tirene from Aclaris looms ahead, its dark waters rippling with warning. A sudden burst of anxiety grips me.

“Too far, Dame. This could get me into trouble.”

I press my thighs tighter against Dame’s flanks, urging her to reverse course, but she remains resolute, her powerful wings beating a rhythm that defies my silent pleas. Subservience does not play a role in the bond between us. We are partners in the sky, and today, Dame controls the reins while I hold on for balance.

Below us, the deepening water grows darker.

Before the waters can return to shallows, Dame banks sharply, guiding us toward one of the unoccupied islands between the two kingdoms. As she begins to descend, her uneasiness floods our connection, and the wind rushing past carries a myriad of unintelligible whispers. Something about them strikes a familiar chord and prompts a slimy sensation to slither down my spine.

Telling myself I’m jumpy over nothing, I focus on our surroundings as we head for a sandy beach, where the unexpected sight of alicorns greets us.

The small herd dozes in the sun, taking naps with their legs comfortably tucked underneath. From this height, they’re serene, their bodies arranged in a flight grouping.

A laugh bubbles up from my chest, even as my heart pings with longing over Zephyr, the alicorn I left behind at Flighthaven. How could I ever have feared these incredible creatures?

As we enter our final descent, the laughter dies in my throat. Every last one of the alicorns lies prone on the ground. While that behavior in and of itself isn’t uncommon, at least a few adults always remain standing to guard over a sleeping herd.

My lungs hollow. The herd’s stillness isn’t peaceful.

It’s final.

A dreadful silence greets us when we touch down, the alicorns’ majesty replaced by an eerie tableau of death. They sprawl before me, foal to stallion, each one a monument to some unseen, sudden evil.

I try to urge Dame closer, but the dragon resists, sidestepping uneasily and refusing to move forward. The hair on the back of my neck prickles. “Not gonna lie, you’re not making me feel any less freaked out about this.”

Giving up on coaxing the stubborn dragon, I dismount instead. My boots hit dry sand with a soft thud while Dame remains rooted in the same spot. “What could have happened?” I whisper the words, as if my normal speaking voice might disturb the fallen creatures.

Ridiculous, of course. Because they’re dead, and nothing will ever disturb them again.

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