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Astralux digs her claws into the forest moss-covered ground, tearing up shrubs and dead leaves as she dodges behind a tree to avoid the black-vaned bolt from Vladykar Lochan’s crossbow. Vitegadium paws at the ground slower, more tired than Astralux. Vladykar Eder’s bolt slices open a small cut on his right rear leg, and Vitegadium stumbles, Thorn hissing in shared pain.

I hurriedly pat Astralux’s shoulder. “Breathe at them!”

Astralux arches her neck and fires a blast of bright white light at Pesokvglazu’s face. Vladykar Lochan spots it and turns his head, but his dragon isn’t fast enough and gives a yelp as the light splashes over his face and lingers on his head. When Astralux turns to breathe at Velenosever, however, the dragon is ready, shielding his face with his wing as Astralux’s light washes over it. He barrels down on us, claws outstretched.

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Chapter 6: The Arrival of Ariadna’s Star

It doesn’t matter that it’s night—Thorn and I rush to clean up our camp, packing our supplies, while Astralux and Vitegadium gulp down as much water as they can stand from the stream nearby.

“What do you mean, Ariadna’s Star has come to Zoi?” I ask.

“You don’t see the grand beacon of light?!” Thorn asks dryly.

“I see it, but what does this mean?” I roll up my burnt sleeping bag and tie it to Astralux’s saddle. “You sound like you know what’s going on.”

“Have you never heard the story of Ariadna’s Star?” Astralux asks.

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“And thus after aiding our mysterious ally with his wound,” I explain to King Mahlir, “he and his dragon left.”

King Mahlir sits upon his throne, he and his four generals (and in fact, everyone in the court) staring at us with wide eyes. The only one who doesn’t look as astounded is Prince Philander—he sits upon his throne beside his father, looking regal, even with his bandaged arm carefully propped up on the arm rest, hidden under his royal purple overcoat. I know one good pat on his shoulder and someone would realize how badly wounded he is. But then again, who is going to so leisurely pat the Prince of Amenyl on the shoulder?

“And you have no idea who this bonded rider and dragon are?” General Norman asks.

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I struggle in Raucharger’s claws, but they hold fast. My heart is thudding my chest as the new dragon and rider near us.

“What’s this?” Vladykar Jarogniew, still clinging to Astralux’s back as Raucharger keeps a hold of her, squints east, peering at the newcomers. “More Wards?”

Surprised, as I thought for sure that it would be more Vladykars, I feel my stomach flip-flop as I suddenly recognize the pale reddish-golden scales of the dragon, and the wolf-head of the rider:

It’s Prince Philander and his dragon.

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Thorn lifts the Verlassen banner, waving it in the air, and a tentative, confused cheer starts up from Riverton. Clearly, they aren’t sure what to make of two dragon riders that bear the Verlassen banner.

The Klevorian soldiers, however, seem less surprised and more anxious, and I hear the tumultuous shouting increase from their area.

“Hang on!” Astralux shouts.

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Staring in Prince Philander’s dark gray-purple eyes, his hand still outstretched to me, I swallow. I can feel the tension palpable all around me, everyone leaning close to see whether or not I accept Prince Philander’s offer of marriage and further secure the alliance between the Wards and Amenyl.

But I can’t. And I decide that the best thing to do is to be honest. It’s what Ariadna would want.

“I’m greatly honored by your request,” I say. “Thank you, your majesty. However, my heart is set on another man, and his on mine.” I pull out the ruby pendant Amon had given me, setting it atop my Wards uniform. “He has gifted me a betrothal promise.”

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Thorn and I follow the four generals of the Verlassen army down the tall hallway. Our steps are softened on the gold-gilded yellow and purple-patterned carpet runner beneath us, and my eyes take in the glistening gold vases on cherry-wood tables stationed perfectly every ten steps, Verlassen guards positioned in pairs between every three vases on either side.

The other thing that surprises me is how slow I feel like the generals are walking—and yet, theirs is no leisure pace. Being around other dragon-bonded has caused me to forget that we are faster. Even now, I remind myself not to make them feel rushed. Thorn seems more accustomed to the change in pace, and smiles a little as I take a couple of quick steps and then pause, trying to keep distance between myself and General Easton in front of me.

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“Sit.”

I stare at the two generals in the room as I take a seat in one of the thick, polished chairs at a round wooden table. If I weren’t so nervous that I’d been separated from Thorn—and far away from Astralux and Vitegadium—I’d have appreciated the beautiful paintings on the wall of military victories and still-life of the city of Remyssus.

As it is, my staff and dagger were taken, the rest of my equipment still on Astralux’s saddle, and now I look between the two men who continue to stand opposite of where I sit. Many other Verlassen soldiers have filled out the room, their yellow and purple-checkered uniforms quite bright in the many candle sconces that line the wall, giving ample light to the room, as does the large window behind me.

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From the depths of vibrant dreams of dragons, I realize I hear someone calling me: “Estelle? Estelle, please wake up!”

“Astralux?” I cough, my voice dry.

“Oh thank Ariadna,” Astralux says.

I manage one eye open, feeling groggy, as if I’d slept for a solid twelve hours and need another twelve to feel normal. I see Astralux’s face above mine, the furrow between her scaled brows relaxing slightly.

“Estelle?” I hear Thorn from nearby. “Where’s Estelle?”

“Over by Astralux,” Vitegadium says. “She’s just waking up too.”

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While we spend the morning flight on guard, expecting to see another Vladykar pair, there’s nothing else in the sky as Astralux and Vitegadium fly over the rolling plains except birds and, closer to the ground, butterflies. The beautiful summer day gets to me as the hours pass, and I relax, sighing as I hold out a hand, enjoying the wind rushing past my arm.

Astralux glances at me from the corner of one of her eyes. “And to think,” she says loudly, “you were once afraid of flying!” I grin sheepishly.

Vitegadium flaps his wings a little faster, raising himself. “Hey, what if we race?”

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