Page 28 of City of Secrets and Shadows
We passed through the gates with no issues, heading down the main route past farmers and merchants filing into the city to bring their wares to sell. Beyond the walls, the landscape opened into rolling hills dotted with olive groves and small farms. We followed a path that wound away from the main road, climbing steadily until we reached the abandoned shepherd’s hut where Livia had convinced her dragon to wait for us. I felt a little nervous as we approached, hoping the creature would still be there. Livia said she thought it understood her when she spoke to it, but even she wasn’t sure, and our plan would be for nothing with the beast.
“Remember,” Septimus instructed Livia for what must have been the tenth time, “dragon riders from noble houses maintain a specific posture. Back straight, chin level—”
“I know,” Livia cut him off, her voice tight with nervous energy. “We’ve practiced. I won’t embarrass you, Septimus.”
I kept silent, watching the interplay between them. Septimus had grown increasingly protective — or possessive — as the day of the trials approached. His corrections had become more frequent, his criticisms sharper. He was worried about her, I realised. As were we all.
The shepherd’s hut came into view, its stone walls weathered and partially collapsed on one side. I held my breath, scanning the area for any sign of the dragon. Nothing moved except tall grasses bending in the morning breeze.
“Where is it?” Septimus hissed, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword.
Livia stepped forward, her face a mask of concentration. “He’s here. I can feel him.”
She closed her eyes, head tilting as though listening to a distant sound. When she opened them again, she smiled.
“He’s coming.”
I felt the great draft of his wings, before his shadow passed over my head, and watched in awe as the beast descended. Even after seeing him several times, I still felt my breath catch. The dragon’s scales shimmered in the morning light-deep crimson that was nearly black, except where the sun highlighted the scales. He landed with surprising grace, powerful muscles rippling beneath that armoured hide as he folded his wings.
Septimus cursed under his breath, taking an involuntary step back. “Gods’ blood, I’ll never get used to that.”
Livia ran forward, her face lighting up, and I fought to quell the instinctive fear that never quite faded no matter how many times I’d watched her with the creature. He lowered his head to Livia’s level. She reached up without hesitation, placing her hand on the ridged slope of his snout. The dragon’s eyes — intelligent, ancient eyes — closed briefly at her touch.
I hung back with Septimus, noting the scatter of bones around the clearing. Cattle bones mostly, picked clean and sun-bleached. The dragon had fed well during his isolation.
“The local farmers will be missing their stock,” I muttered.
“Not much we can do about that,” said Septimus, his eyes fixed on Livia. “The academy will feed him from today if she makes it through.”
“She’ll make it,” I said as I watched as Livia ran her hands over the dragon’s head, her movements confident and practiced. Noobserver would question her familiarity with dragon-handling. She spoke softly to the beast, words I couldn’t hear but which made the dragon rumble with what sounded almost like contentment.
Despite my unease around the beast, I felt an inexplicable connection to the creature — nothing like Livia’s bond, but a strange kinship. Perhaps it was our shared status as beings that didn’t quite belong in this world of humans. Neither of us had chosen our nature, yet both were judged for it.
“You should give him a name,” I said, stepping forward and reaching out slowly to run my hand along the scales of its long neck. The dragon’s scales felt warm beneath my fingertips, almost vibrating with the creature’s deep breaths.
Livia glanced at me, surprise flickering across her face. “A name? I never thought of that.”
“All noble riders name their dragons,” Septimus said. “It’s tradition.”
“Oh, yes, I suppose, I just…” she looked back at him. “I… this will sound strange, but I felt like he already had a name. Giving him another one felt wrong.”
The dragon’s head swivelled toward me, those ancient eyes studying me with unnerving intensity. I forced myself to hold its gaze, though every instinct screamed to look away. Heat radiated from its body, carrying the scent of smoke and iron.
“We need to call him something,” I argued. “He or it just seems disrespectful to me.”
She nodded slowly. “Something fitting,” she said.
“What about Sirrax?” Septimus suggested. “I remember Tarus telling us a story about some Imperial Dragon Elite hero from the Great Wars, and I’m sure the dragon’s name was Sirrax. It means ‘Ravenous Thunder.’”
“Sirrax,” she murmured. The dragon’s chest rumbled, and she smiled.
“Sirrax,” she repeated, more confidently this time. The dragon lowered his massive head, exhaling a warm breath that stirred her hair. “I think he approves.”
“We should go,” Septimus announced. “We need to arrive at the academy well before Livia makes her appearance.”
Livia turned to us, her hand still resting on the dragon’s scales, as if she couldn’t bear not to be touching him. I understood that feeling all too well. The strange bond Livia and I seemed to share had that effect on me. The few stolen hours we’d managed to be together on our journey here had stopped when we’d started sharing rooms with Marcus and Octavia. It would be impossible to conceal our involvement around all three of the others, and a deep ache had grown in my chest the longer I went without touching her. If she made it through the trials, she’d be given a suite at the academy, but I had no idea if Septimus would leave her side long enough. I already needed her badly. We’d have to find a way. I swallowed hard, forcing my attention back to the matter at hand.
“How long will it take to reach the academy?” Livia asked.
