Gods on their stony thrones—dragons. What would Teo think of this? While it would be safe to assume that these elves are at least somewhat loyal to Mrath—did Arion have access to such creatures?
I’d never seen one. They weren’t used in the Great War. No, for us enduares, such a myth had been found in epic poems written by great lyricists from the past.
The crimson-colored dragon we ride stretches its wings out, swooping down toward a circular landing pad.
Arlet squeals in delight.
“It’s so beautiful!” she calls.
The onyx dragon lands first, and Theren leaps off, Lorien in his arms, in one smooth motion. His dragon flies away and they walk to the side of the landing area. A few other elves come to speak with them, each looking up at us before hurrying off.
The green dragon is next. And then the storm-grey one.
At last, it’s our turn, and we’re carried straight to the platform.My stomach drops when the dragon lands, the height making my legs feel unsteady. The rider slips off first.
“Follow, same as me. Then help your wife,” he says, his accent thick.
The word ‘wife’sends a jolt through me, and I turn back to Arlet. Seeing her illuminated by the lights from the city, I have the urge to pull out the sketchbook I’d brought from the Sisterhood’s Enclave. I want to capture this moment for her to enjoy, too.
A part of me feels like she belongs to me. It’s hard to describe—it’s justthere.
I look away, and shift my focus to getting off the damned dragon. Balancing my weight in the saddle, I grip the rope they gave us tightly and I swing my leg over. My hands shake as I lower myself, and when my feet finally hit the platform, I hit the stone hard enough to make my knees groan. The world around me tilts, as if I’d forgotten what it is like to be on solid ground.
The elf behind me snickers.
I shoot him a glare. Then hold out my arms for Arlet.
“Come, Firelocks. I’d like to get you away from the edge.”
She grins down at me, windswept. As she slides forth, the rest of her hair comes out of its bun, spilling over her shoulders.
I marvel.
“That was… amazing,” she breathes, her voice hoarse from calling into the wind.
“I thought you didn’t like adventures,” I tease as she falls into the space next to me.
I hold out my arm. She slides her hand through, and then takes in the city. Her head twists right and left, and she grins.
The tall, slender buildings are everywhere, and an arch marks the official entrance to Dragon’s Reach.
After a moment, Theren and Lorien approach. Arlet stays at my side, her breath visible.
“It is my pleasure to escort you to your room for tonight,” Theren says. “There should be food waiting for you.”
“We would both appreciate a full night’s rest,” I respond.
The elf smiles and begins to escort us away. Lorien hangs back from his uncle’s side, sneaking glances at us both.
“Did you get in more trouble?” I lean over and ask him.
Arlet catches my movement and smiles.
Lorien looks up at us. “Yes. My uncle is displeased.”
The quick, matter-of-fact way he chirps his words makes me laugh, and then he goes to Arlet’s side to hold her hand.
“You will have to forgive us, as we expected you much earlier. We had planned an evening of feasting. Everyone is quite eager to meet you both,” Theren continues, pulling me away from Arlet and Lorien.