With Jacko clutched under one arm, I begin my retreat. Behind me, the juvenile on the ledge hisses and screeches, but when it makes a move, its mother screams at it. Telling it to stay back. Telling it to stay safe. Telling it she will handle this. She will kill the intruder.
I am going to die.
I am seeing a dragon. An actual dragon, and it is beautiful enough to bring tears to my eyes, but this is the last thing I will see. Like my father, who dreamed of seeing a gryphon, and the first one he encountered killed him.
I have never dared dream of seeing a dragon, but I am doing it. I might be the first person in generations. Princess Rowan of Clan Dacre, royal monster hunter. The girl with the gift for monsters.
The girl with the curse of stumbling over them at every turn.
The girl who saw a dragon—an actual dragon—and died with that sight imprinted on her mind.
I keep backing up. Then the dragon’s head snaps out. Her massive body doesn’t move. It doesn’t need to. Her long neck extends, lips curling, malevolence in her golden eyes…
She stops. Those eyes fix on mine, and joy leaps in me. She sees me. Really sees me. Her nostrils flare, and she inhales my scent, and she is going to realize I’m not a threat. I’m just a human girl in nightclothes, barefoot and clutching a young jackalope.
Then her jaws open, and she roars, and the very sound nearly knocks me off my feet. I wheel to flee and something hits me—she hits me, her cold snout slamming into me. I fall and instinctively pull all four limbs in around Jacko. I will save him. Whatever happens, he doesn’t need to die here. He can escape.
I’m huddled over him, shaking in fear, so certain I am going to die, part of me just wanting it to be over with. But another part silences that impulse. My blood runs hot, like in that dream, and I swear I hear it singing through my veins. I clutch Jacko in one arm and press the other hand flat against the rock, dagger beneath it. I flex my dagger hand, and let myself shake, let the fear seep from me.
I am small, and I am frightened, and I am no threat. No threat at all.
I feel her breath on me. Strangely cold breath. Breath that smells…
I know that smell.
I shake off the thought. It doesn’t matter. Just focus on being small and scared and then—
I flip over. I clutch Jacko tight and lift the dagger. Her head is right there. I could hurt her. I could hurt her badly. But I don’t. I just hold the dagger and meet her gaze.
Her jaws crack open. Not opening wide. They barely part, and she hisses, and breath rolls out.
That exhalation washes over me, cold droplets spattering my face. I hold my breath. I don’t know why—maybe just because those droplets gross me out. It’s the right move, though. I’ve already inhaled enough, and it does something to my brain. Makes everything seem strange and light and weightless. Makes me feel…
I feel like I did last night, during that waking dream.
I blink fast and creep backward. The dragon roars, and her jaws snap inches from my face. I scramble up, and she swings her head, knocking me flying.
Then there’s another scream. A very different one. A clatter on rock and an equine shriek, and one of the juveniles screeches. A blur of white over my shoulder. Before I can move, that blur gallops onto the ledge, hooves clattering.
It’s Sunniva. I blink in shock, certain I’m seeing things. The pegasus filly charges straight at the dragon, her wings out and raised, making the filly seem twice her size. At the last second, she rears, red hooves flashing. She screams again, and the dragon’s head jerks back in surprise.
Sunniva sidesteps to me and bends onto one front knee, like Doscach does when he wants me to climb onto his back.
I blink against the fog in my brain. “I—I can’t. I’m too heavy.”
She whinnies and rears, hooves flying, warning the dragon to stay back. I lift Jacko, thinking she means for me to put him on her back, but she drops to both front knees and looks over.
If she can’t carry me, then I’ll roll off and leave her with Jacko. I swing my leg over her shoulders, and as Jacko clings on, I take hold of her mane and shimmy up, my knees close to her neck, sitting ahead of her wings.
The dragon snaps from her surprise. She roars, and her neck shoots out, like a snake striking, but Sunniva is already galloping from the ledge. The one young dragon rears on its hind legs. Sunniva veers at the last second and then launches over the side, her wings extending behind me. We drop, and my heart drops, too.
I’ve made a mistake, been selfish, she can’t carry me and we’re going to—
Sunniva adjusts her wings and stretches out her neck, and we begin to glide.
“Yes!” I whisper. “Just glide. Get me close enough to the ground, and I’ll slide off and—”
A roar behind us. I look back to see the dragon charging across the ledge. Those massive black wings extend. Then she is in flight.
“Down, Sunniva!” I say. “Just get me down, and I’ll roll off.”
Sunniva flaps her wings, but we don’t rise. We’re barely moving, and the dragon is torpedoing across the sky.
I look down. We’re still twenty feet in the air, above a rocky clearing without even trees to hide in. Sunniva’s labored flaps keep us hovering when I want to
