Page 80 of Of Blood and Banes
“Kilamber has one of the several dragonblade forges in the continent. It’s been shut down since Aaric took the throne. As you witnessed yesterday, we have our own rebels, and I’d rather not risk any more run-ins if we can help it. Jerome.” He tosses a glance over to the man with long braids. “Take Lexi with you and scout out ahead. Find any guards and alert them we’ve arrived and have them report back if the dragon rider sector is ready for us.”
Jerome and Lexi dip their heads and walk off together, their fire dragons close behind them. The tremors of their footsteps fade into the distance.
Marge stands before Daeja, tapping her staff on the ground several times.
“What are you doing?” I ask, coming to stand next to her.
Daeja lifts her head from where it was tucked underneath her wing and growls.
Marge takes a few steps back and holds out a hand in front of her, as if it would actually stop a dragon from attacking her. “We need her for tonight’s training.”
Daeja rises from the ground like a menacing shadow, and the other dragons huff their irritation at the late-night intrusion. The three of us, led by Marge, walk further away from the other dragons and the city of Kilamber. Marge stops at a spot void of trees and shrubbery, marked only by a cluster of boulders set against a barren hillside. Without trees to mask the night sky, it’s a beautiful expanse of stars and dark clouds racing across the heavens.
Marge snaps her fingers, pulling my attention away from the sky. “Focus…what do you remember from that night back in Arterias, when Daeja lit the forest on fire?”
“Umm…well…”
“If she’s alluding to the fact she’d like to ride me again, she might as well start digging her own grave.”
I toss a glance to Daeja, who sits back on her hind legs and folds her wings against her sides, curling her tail around her front paws.
“Think, Katerina,” Marge pushes. “Do you remember what happened with the dragonfire?”
“It…” I stare off at Daeja, locking into her white eyes and waiting for the answer and memories to flood me. “...it sort of…moved? I-I don’t know. It sounds ridiculous?—”
“No. It’s not ridiculous. Go on.”
“When I moved my hand, the flames seemed to follow. Almost like they were alive?” I turn to look at Marge over my shoulder, like she’ll confirm where my thoughts are heading.
She nods, then hobbles forward. “Dragonfire is magic. That’s why it’s more destructive than regular fire. The Blood and Bone Rings were created to channel magic, which is why you were able to move it back in Arterias. It’s a similar practice to pulling directly from the ley lines. Just at a smaller, more diluted scale.”
She shifts her attention to Daeja and prods her tail with the end of her staff. “Test your rider.”
Daeja’s lips curl up, her teeth flashing in the moonlight.“Tell her if she touches me one more time, she won’t be here to witness the outcome of your so-called test.”
“Shhh,” I whisper aloud, and then direct my question at Marge. “Is the blade within your staff a dragonblade?”
“Yes.”
I flick my hand to encourage her to back up. Daeja lowers her head a few inches above the grass, her jaw parting, and a warm glow collects within her broad chest before traveling up her long, serpentine throat and through her mouth out onto the ground. But rather than a small flame, it blasts out in a wide circle that has the grass blackening and curling in on itself.
“Stop!” Marge barks at Daeja. “Before it spreads far beyond her control!”
Daeja snaps her jaws closed, ceasing the shower of flame. Most of the fire dissipates, with some remaining embers glowing hot like ruby jewels in the dirt.
Marge jerks her chin at me. “Good. I think you can work with that. Take it slowly. Otherwise, you risk your control slipping.”
And I don’t want to do that again.Sucking in a quick breath, I lower to one knee and press my hand into the earth. That rushing sound of energy hums around me, and I lock in on those wispy flames threatening to disappear. My mind wandersbeyond my control to thoughts of Hornwood. Of the little girl, and the doll I buried near the river. The painful memory of not being able to save any of them. My heart clenches. I normally try to push it all away. To sweep it under the rug and ignore it.
But I can’t—I need this.
I need to feel angry that I didn’t have the tools to defend them at the time. I need the overwhelming determination to not allow it to happen again. And if I need to hang on to the memory that tears open the stitches in my heart, then I’ll do it. I’ll bleed myself out to promise I won’t let it happen again.
“You don’t have to touch the ground when it’s already surfaced, only when you’re pulling from the ley lines. Try to move it,” Marge directs me.
I lift my hand off the ground and reach toward the flames. Palming the air between us as if I’m trying to draw the magic to my hand. The flames hiss, stubbornly clinging to the blackened spot, until I jerk my hand to the left, and it follows. I sweep my hand back to the right, and as I do so, I loosen its grip on the earth.
“Good…” Marge whispers.
