We went to a dragon with broken bones. I watched as Shamino checked him over. His clothes were still wrinkled from flight, his eyes lined with darkness. There was a hollowness to his cheeks, too, not from his trip but as if he’d not eaten while at Dragonsridge.
“You set these well,” he murmured. Shamino’s eyes closed and his forehead wrinkled. The dragon hissed in discomfort as flesh shifted.
After Shamino had melded bones together, he repaired the tissue of a poisoned, pin-cushioned dragon. Last, he came to my wingless one. He stood still a long time, watching the dragon sleep.
“I should have been here,” he whispered as he wiped his eyes.
“You couldn’t have known we’d have wounded.”
“No. But I should have returned the moment that bastard died.” He stepped forward to inspect my work. The dragon woke; Shamino the healer hid his anguish and murmured encouragement to his patient.
I still love him.
When he finished, we went to his study to go over the rest of what he’d missed. Shamino slouched in his chair. I shivered; something about the angle of his body echoed the dying man’s posture in my vision.
I shook the prickles away and knelt beside his chair. I put a hand on his arm. “You couldn’t have saved them all. You couldn’t have healed fast enough.”
“But I could have saved one—”
“I thought that, too, but the first dragon was dead within minutes of landing. I know you could have healed the green’s wings…” I swallowed. I had nightmares of that moment, and sometimes I had to leave the dining hall when it smelled too strongly of roast. “But even with your Gift, the wings would have taken too long to mend. Others would have died as they waited.”
“You don’t know—” He put his hand over his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. They’re dead.”
I squeezed his arm. He shifted forward and slipped his arms around my neck. He held me tight, and I couldn’t help but hold him back. His body shook as he took a breath and buried his face in my hair. He smelled of wind and dragon and weariness.
I want this forever. My face burned with shame. While Shamino blamed himself for dragons dying, I was enjoying a hug.
“I missed you,” he whispered into my neck.
And I you, my heart cried, but my lips said nothing.
At my silence, he withdrew. “Catch me up.”
I opened the records and we went over them. The Infirmary report came last.
“We need more people,” he whispered. “Sylvia needs an apprentice, and we can’t rely on volunteers with no experience securing bandages. The Quarters has done fine without many people thus far, but with the war… are you planning to stay?”
“Excuse me?”
“Tomorrow. Bonding for the trainees.” He stared at my notes. “You can request a different assignment.”
Bonding. I’d completely forgotten with my duties as Seneschal. “I assume I’m staying.”
“What if Merram ordered you to go to Dragonsridge?”
“He’d never do that.”
“But let’s say he did.” Shamino studied me with an intensity that was unsettling. “It’s not impossible—your Gift makes you an impressive political tool. Would you be happy?”
The very thought terrified me. A life of parties and dances, no Tressa to outshine me or to make my excuses. It had been some time since our falling out. While I regretted the way our friendship had ended, I did not miss the stress it had given me.
My expression must have said it all, because Shamino nodded. “Court would destroy everything that makes you wonderful.”
“Merram hasn’t said anything about sending me, has he?” Merram knew my blood, he knew the risk. Yet, I hadn’t understood most of his decisions thus far. “Can you tell him—”
“You’re fine. It’s just something I wanted to know, in case anyone tried to lure you from the Quarters.”
The melancholy had returned, which wasn’t surprising given the dragons’ deaths. I couldn’t help but feel, however, that I had missed something important.
The feeling intensified when Shamino pulled me to standing. “I want you happy, Dragonling. I’ll see to it that you’re never forced to go to the capitol.”
“… thanks.”
Shamino kissed my forehead. There was a finality to it that made panic rise in my chest. Then he told me to rest, and I found myself in the hallway.
I definitely had missed something. I just didn’t know what.
Early the next morning, commoners moved my belongings to an apartment in an outer corridor. When I entered my new chambers, everything was identical, except for the extra door in my main room.
Once I bond, the dragon will know everything. My past. My secrets. My fears. I prayed that my terror of being found out would convince the dragon to stay silent. I took a deep breath and entered the cave.
“It is you,” I said. A smile spread across my face.
*Naturally.* Mettalise sat in all her beauty, giving me a draconian grin. A pile of quartz already formed her bed, and endless crystals dangled from the ceiling. So many rainbows, on the walls and on her silvery, opal scales. Her room was one of light and color. *You deserve the best.*
I laughed, because I believed Mettalise to be that arrogant. “Now what?”
*Have a seat.* She gestured to a plush white sofa with elegant woodwork. *I do everything. You relax.*
“Does it hurt?”
Mettalise considered for a moment. *Not exactly, but I’m told the sensation is… strange. You’ll know the moment of the bond.*
“You’ll keep my secrets?” I asked, heart pounding.
Mettalise lowered her head until a midnight-blue eye was an arm’s-length from my face. *Always.*
I wiped sweaty palms on my breeches and lay on the sofa where a rainbow wouldn’t strike my eyes. Mettalise touched my leg with a claw. I heard nothing but draconian breathing and my own thundering heartbeat. Pressure increased in my head, somewhat like a headache, yet not painful. Invasive. I squirmed, uncomfortable, and my scalp prickled.
Everything disappeared as images exploded in my mind.
Fire. White-hot fire flows over my scales. A surge of love and
