Since the day Aldar had died, I hadn’t felt Scilla’s phantom tickle or her angry scratch. No longer doomed as an eternal earthwalker, she had moved on. In my mind, I embraced her. Like the Watchers, she’d also done her part in saving me, and in saving countless other lives who’d have been lost during the war that never happened.
On the way south, we’d stopped to visit Pia and Marro, and little Giaah. Even at this young age, it was obvious she’d inherited her mother’s tough, adventurous streak. Her chubby legs raced me around the pools in front of their manor, over and over until I couldn’t run anymore. And the ignored scrapes on her knees from tripping proved nothing was going to stop her. Before I’d left, I’d given all three of them lockets with a bit of my hair inside. I hadn’t told them what it was. Just Farnskag magic that would help keep them safe.
“Jiara!” Mother trudged up the hill, the brilliant crimson of her gown, and the locket I’d presented to her, shining in the sun. She paid her respects then laid her hand on my elbow. “It’s time for the banquet.”
We strolled down the hill. Glizerra bustled in the background behind the palace, just as it always had, with its canals glittering in the evening sun. I stored the picture in my head to enjoy it once we were traveling north again.
Mother could have sent a servant or a guard to find me. It was good to have a moment alone with her, and I stopped and squeezed her tight.
“I’ve missed you too,” she said, embracing me with strong arms. She leaned back and brushed away a few strands of hair that Gio had managed to free. “My brave daughter.”
I toed the grass and tried not to groan, remembering how I’d sobbed the day I’d left Azzaria. “I’m not brave.”
She shook her head once, sharply. “Brave and smart, and still so foolish at the same time. You have made your place in this world. You freed Scilla. You found love. Together, my two daughters have changed the world into a better place.”
My cheeks warmed at the thought of my failings over the years. “If you knew how many mistakes I’ve made.”
“Ah.” She shook her head and took me by the elbow again. “But look at what you found along the way.” We strolled over the lush grass. “A marriage. A language. A people.”
“Maybe.”
She nodded. “Ha, maybe. And how to rule. Before you left, you said you weren’t ready to be queen. Are you ready now?”
I flashed a smile at her. The answer was obvious, as if I’d known it all along. As if it would never ever change.
I was. And I was not.
Mother sighed and leaned into my ear. “I’ll tell you a secret. No one is ever ready.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “No. But I’m learning.”
She nodded. “As am I, little dragonbird. As am I.”
Acknowledgments
I’ve wanted to write and publish a book since I was a child, and my heart is bursting at finally having the chance. But I didn’t make it this far all by myself. So many people deserve my gratitude for getting to this point.
To my editor Kelsy Thompson: thank you for being a champion of my manuscript and for teasing out so many aspects that made this book better. Working with you has been amazing!
To the Flux/North Star team: a huge thank you for all you do, including Mari Kesselring for requesting my manuscript in the first place and for acquiring it, Sarah Taplin for creating a cover I can’t stop staring at because I love it so much, marketing and publicity managers Emily Temple and Megan Naidl for getting the word out, and copy editor Meredith Madyda for perfecting my sentences.
I would never have made any progress without the writing community. To my spectacularly talented CPs Gabe, Caitlin, Ali, Carissa, and Mayken: thank you for reading for me, for providing your expertise, for shaping me as a writer. I might have given up on Dragonbird long ago if it wasn’t for your encouragement; you helped make it the book it is today.
To my wonderful beta readers and expert readers: Alechia, Emma, Sam, Linnea, Mikki, Mark, Bronson, and Linh. Thank you so much for sharing your insights and wisdom, and for helping me to make this book better than it would have been without you.
Thanks to my Twitter and online writing friends for your teachings, your support, and for sharing this journey. To Meredith and Jennifer: special thanks for helping me out with my many publishing-related questions! Thanks to the Roaring 20s and 21ders groups for sharing tips and the ups and downs of publishing our debuts.
And finally, my family deserves the most gratitude. First, to my mom for instilling a love of reading, and science fiction and fantasy in me, and for her unwavering faith that I would publish a book someday. Thank you to my dad, for giving me the love of travel, elements of which are visible in this book.
To Jayden and Marcus: thank you for coping when I was in my own little world while writing, and for putting up with my “what do you think about . . .” questions. I hope you’ll see this book as proof that hard work and stubbornness can help make your dreams come true.
To my husband Christian: you are the king of the country far away I crossed the globe to be with. You deserve a towering mountain of thank yous, for whisking away the kids to protect my writing time and for never once making me feel like I was wasting time writing in the years before my debut novel sold. I could never have done this without your love and support. I love you.
Author’s Note
Concentrate.
Practice more.
Try harder.
Those are all things my loved ones who have dyslexia heard over and over. The phrases were probably meant to inspire, but instead—with no additional help—they led to frustration, shame, and dreading being called on to read aloud in school.
Four years after they began learning to read and write, they were finally tested for dyslexia, finally diagnosed. At this point, they began to get what they needed: understanding and support, including special accommodations in school. I wouldn’t say school life was perfect, but it definitely improved.
In A Dragonbird in the Fern, Jiara is never diagnosed with dyslexia, and her society doesn’t understand it. She lives her entire life mistakenly believing she isn’t as smart as her siblings who can read faster and spell better.
Dyslexia has many forms and can be different for each person. Some people see moving letters and others see moving words, some see rivers of white on the page, some have trouble finding the right words when they speak. Some people with dyslexia love to read, and some hate it. And these are just a few examples of differences among my loved ones and the expert readers who helped check my book for authenticity (any mistakes that slipped through are my own). What Jiara experiences may not be the same for you or someone you know.
Recent statistics say up to twenty percent of people have some symptoms of dyslexia, and if you’d like more information on it, here are a few places to start:
International Dyslexia Association
dyslexiaida.org/dyslexia-basics
The Yale Center for Dyslexia & Creativity
dyslexia.yale.edu
Dyslexia Help at the University of Michigan
dyslexiahelp.umich.edu
Understood
www.understood.org/en
Compared to how some of my older loved ones who suspect they have dyslexia were treated in past decades, we’re definitely seeing progress, and it makes sense to look for help as early as possible.
There is still a long way to go. People with dyslexia tend to have certain strengths compared to non-dyslexic people, like being better at seeing the big picture, being creative, recognizing patterns, solving problems, and more. The faster dyslexic kids are recognized and helped, the quicker they can live out these and other strengths. But we need teachers trained to recognize the signs of dyslexia, we need to provide more support and understanding to those who have it, and we need to make it so that families don’t have to jump through hoops to get help for their children—so that in the future, kids don’t go years thinking they must just not be very smart.
About the Author
Laura Rueckert is a card-carrying bookworm who manages projects for an international company by day. At night, fueled by European chocolate, she transforms into a writer of young adult science fiction and fantasy novels. Laura grew up in Michigan, USA, but a whirlwind romance after college brought her to Europe. Today, she lives in Germany with her husband, two kids, and one fluffy dog.
A Dragonbird in the Fern is Laura’s debut novel. You can find her online on Twitter (@LauraRueckert), Instagram (laura_rueckert_writes), and at www.laurarueckert.com.
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