“We'll both be stained when I nurse her, but it will fade in a couple days.” Rin's blue eyes flashed as a grin spread across her face. “You can tell I'm not mad at you, right?”
Tessen ran his thumbs along his wrists as he regarded the faint sparks in the air between them. “You're amused. I . . . I may not be cut out for this. For taking care of kids. Last time, Yana painted her dragon orange and purple, then folded all the pages of one of Daelis's law manuals. Zinnia ate cat food.”
Rin raised an eyebrow as the laugh finally escaped. “Hani is washable, the book wasn't important, and the cat was finishing off leftovers from our lunch. You're doing fine with them. You and your brother got into so much trouble when you were toddlers and children . . . even past when you were Yana's age. Every time I looked away, one of you was getting into something. You're the same age now that I was when you were born, and I thought I was doing everything wrong. I didn't quite get past that until Zinnia, and it still pops up sometimes. It will happen again with this next one. Kids are tough. Try not to panic when they do something unexpected.”
“I'm perfectly comfortable with panicking. It's my thing.”
Rin picked up the washcloth and dabbed at Zinnia's mouth. “I wish you'd find a new hobby.”
“Silversmithing, dragons, translating cookbooks, invading emotional space, anxiety. I don't have room for more hobbies.” The flush in Tessen's cheeks cooled as he exhaled and leaned against the wall.
Zinnia tugged at Rin's shirt. “Milk! Milk!”
“Let me clean you up just a little more,” Rin said. Still smiling, she nodded at Tessen. “Take Yana with you tonight. Lyssa wants all of the newer dragonbound at this lesson.”
“Yana . . . damn it, I forgot about Yana.” Tessen's attention darted toward the bedrooms. When was the last time he saw Yana? She'd interrupted him to ask about linens while he was writing to Shan. “Oh, no. What else did I do wrong?”
“She's eight. I doubt she has been eating ink. Spiders, definitely, but not ink. She's probably reading on her bed.”
“'ammit,” Zinnia said with a giggle. Her tiny hands were back in Rin's hair.
“Tessen, I'd appreciate if you'd stop swearing around your sisters,” Rin said as she untangled Zinnia's fingers. “Yana is starting to sound like Ragan, and Zin echoes everything she hears.”
“Sorry, Mom.” The flush returned to Tessen's cheeks and he looked away.
Rin hung the washcloth over the edge of the washbasin, then reached up to touch Tessen's chin. “You're fine, honey. Go collect your sister.”
Tessen slipped past his mother and stood in front of Yana's closed door. Faint giggles and a soft blue light escaped from the gap beneath the wood panels. A chirp, a thump, more giggles, and the light intensified.
“Yana? Time to go.” He rapped his knuckles against the door. “Dragon lessons.”
Bare feet padded across the floor and the door creaked open. Large, pale green eyes looked upward from within an argent face crowned by thick, moss-green hair. “Don't come in.”
“What did you do this time?” Tessen asked, sighing. Yana backed away as he pushed against the door.
Water and bubbling foam greeted him. Blue light bubbles and iridescent vapor drifted above Yana's fizzing bed. Hani, Yana's young moonstone dragon, leapt through the foam in pursuit of bubbles to pop.
Yana breathed heavily as she stared up at Tessen. Her already-round eyes grew even rounder.
“Oh . . . my . . gods. Yana, what the hell?” Tessen's chest tightened. This was worse than the ink. “What did you do? Why?”
Yana's small shoulders shuddered. The tiny Uldru girl rubbed the bridge of her upturned nose as her shimmering skin flushed scarlet. “I was trying a spell from one of the books Daelon gave me. It got kinda wet.”
“No shit,” Tessen mumbled.
Hani chirped, then dove into a thick cloud of foam. Only the opalescent white tip of her tail remained visible as the foam sank around her.
“Mom doesn't like it when you talk like that,” Yana said, her hand on her hip. A bubble popped as it drifted into the tip of her pointed ear.
“Mom doesn't like it when kids flood their bedrooms.” Tessen sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I'm never having kids.”
Yana's brow raised as she arched her back to watch a large blue bubble float past Tessen's head. “You'll have a bunch of them, and they'll all have magic.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No, silly, it's your future. Romance and attraction and physical intimacy confuse you, and you don't think you'll ever find someone who understands that about you, but you're wrong. You'll have a family someday, and someone you love enough to be with. I know you want kids, even when you say you don't. You've always wanted to be a father. And, you're afraid your family name will die with you, but it won't.”
“So you're a prophet now? That's new.”
“I'm not prophetic. I'm observant. Anyway, I can sort of fix this.” Yana spun away from him and held up her hands. The bubbles and foam scattered, then burst into crackling lavender light before hissing and fizzling to nothing. Water still dripped from the linens. “I guess I can't get rid of the water. It was my catalyst.”
Tessen avoided a puddle as he approached the bed. He pulled the soaked quilt onto the floor, then removed the rest of the blankets and sheets. The mattress was damp, but not ruined as he'd feared. He opened the window shutters to let in the cool evening breeze.
He dropped a blanket onto the largest puddle before Hani could splash in it. “It'll dry. Tell Mom you spilled a water pitcher and she won't be mad. You're not supposed to be doing spells in the house if they might be messy.”
“Are you mad at me?” Yana asked.
“No. I'm tired. Zinnia ate my pen and you flooded your bedroom. We need to put these things in the wash basket and go to our lesson.”
“Okay. Come on, Hani.” Yana left the room, leaving Tessen to pick up and deposit the wet rugs and bedding by himself.
Tessen left the little stone house and ventured into the garden, where Serida basked in the last of the evening sunlight. Soon the mountains would swallow the sun and the rising moon would illuminate the pines. The owls and frogs were already warming up for their nightly chorus.
“Did they behave for you?” Daelis asked from the fence beyond the small pumpkin patch. The sunset washed out what little color the fair elf had in his blond hair and turquoise eyes and rendered him hardly more than a pale, silhouetted specter. Tessen squinted as the brace on Daelis's left arm reflected silver into his eyes. Tessen had made that brace to give his stepfather some stability back in a limb partially-paralyzed by a nerve injury sustained while he was trapped underground. It seemed to be working. Daelis would never regain full use of his arm, but with the brace he could perform basic tasks and lift a small amount of weight.
“No. They never do,” Tessen replied. He flicked his fingers toward Serida. She yawned and stretched before joining him by Daelis.
“That's because they like you.” Daelis nodded toward Iefyr, who was on his knees between rows of radishes. “Take as many as you want. We grow way more than we need.”
Iefyr braced his overflowing wicker basket against his hip and stood. “Thanks. I have plenty now. I'll bring by more eggs in the morning. I still have too many chickens if you're interested in taking a couple.”
“Yana is still afraid of them. Let me know when you have chicks again, though. They might help ease her out of her fear of the hens.”
Tessen involuntarily ducked as a large black battle dragon flew over his head. Iridescent green markings on the beast's underbelly identified him as Ectran, Elsin Sylleth's bound dragon. Rin's older brother was the Captain of the Moonlight Regiment, something Tessen was unaware of until they reunited in Mountain Home.
Iefyr's cringe relaxed as Ectran landed behind a nearby knoll. “Damn it, I forget how big he is in flight. Always gives me a start.”
Daelis dropped a stray carrot onto Iefyr's
already-full basket. “Battle dragons are bred for fast growth. Midnight dragons hatch nearly the same size your Auna is now. They fly at a year, can carry their dragonbound shortly after, and are battle-ready by age three. Ectran is only eighteen, but he's one of the oldest among the Regiment dragons here. You should see how big the mature ones are.”
“Have you even seen one?” Tessen asked. Dragons were forbidden in the Jade realm, so Tessen doubted that Daelis had seen a mature midnight drake, or many dragons at all aside from the solar dragons and the ones in Mountain Home both before and after the Nightshadows fled.
“I have, but not up close. Lyssa is bound to one. Massive beauty, sticks to the mountains.”
“How many is she bound to? She's never given me a clear answer.”
“I have no idea. I've seen her with five different ones so far, and I know she's bound to more. She probably wouldn't tell me if I asked. She doesn't like me.” Daelis shook his head as a shiver overtook his right shoulder. “Can't say I blame her. She knows where I came from, and that I'd be a threat her children's positions in the ascension line if I chose to be. I have no interest in that, so she tolerates me. She likes you, Tes. She might even give you a truthful answer if you ask her about her dragons.”
“She's elusive and I can't read her. If she wants to tell me, she'll tell me,” Tessen said. He rubbed the scales behind one of Serida's head crests and she released a low purr. “Iefyr, we should go. Yana's going to brag when she beats us to the training grounds.”
“Let her brag. Sun hasn't even set yet, and we're going to the pool, not to the grounds.” Iefyr bared his small tusks, then pursed his lips and whistled. Auna's red and black head popped up from behind a large white pumpkin. “Come on. We have work to do.”
Crows called from leaning fence posts as crickets joined the dusky symphony. Serida snapped her jaws and pounced at the nearest corvid. The bird screamed a panicked caw-caw as it fluttered over her head and into the safety of a nearby pine.
“You don't have to eat everything you see, dragon,” Tessen mumbled as he walked up the hill. It wasn't large, barely more than a knoll, but the effort winded him.
“You all right?” Iefyr asked.
Tessen shrugged, then drew as deep of a breath as he could manage. “Summer cold coming on. Maybe allergies. It's fine, I'm just a little congested.”
“Ragan makes a tea blend that will knock that right out. Come by the house after the lesson and I'll measure you out a few cups worth. Peppermint, ginger, elderflower, rose hips . . . damn it, can't remember what else he puts in it. It was on the menu at his tea house and the whole place smelled of it every spring bloom.”
“Honey and lemon peel. I remember that much. It's not bad. He made me drink it when I was a kid.”
“You're still a kid.”
Tessen scowled as he kicked a rock over the top of the hill. “I'm not. No point in arguing with you though, is there? You're ancient, a wise old sage. What are you, thirty?”
“Thirty-one,” Iefyr whispered. He made no move to adjust to Tessen's accelerated pace. “I'm not much older than you if you factor in the longevity of half-elves and the fact that elven males aren't considered adults until they're twenty-five. I'm not old.”
“Then stop pretending you are.” Tessen thought it was best not to continue this conversation. His sisters' antics coupled with the sudden spike in fatigue had thrown him in to a foul mood. He yawned and stretched his neck toward his right shoulder, then his left. The edge of the waterfall pond was in view ahead, and a flash of silver snaked along the surface. One of the silver dragons was enjoying the chilled water. “Sorry. I'm tired. Remind me about the tea later because I'll probably forget.”
“Go home and go to sleep. Lyssa will understand if you miss tonight.”
“No. I need to be here.” A full moon lesson on a clear night wasn't something he could skip. He needed to ignore how he felt and stay in the moment.
“You never stop to rest and you're making yourself sick,” Iefyr said, his voice barely audible above the roar of the waterfall.
“I'm not going to argue with you anymore tonight.” Tessen jogged ahead, Serida at his heels.
He stumbled to a halt as soon as the pond came into full view. Ragan and Yana sat next to it, facing four experienced dragonbound. The Guardian herself, Lyssandra Zephyrain Lightborn, stood before a large silver dragon. Cardanaroz was his name, and he was the father of the brood of silver dragons Kemi and her siblings were bound to. One of the High King's bound dragons, Sarianella, was their mother.
To Lyssa's left stood Tessen's uncle, Elsin Sylleth, and his magnificent black battle dragon, Ectran. Kemi and Lenna sat to the Guardian's right. Just behind her, staring up at the waterfall with boredom in his turquoise eyes while his silver dragon swam through the pond, stood the seventh child of the High King and the Guardian, Kendrian Lightborn.
“Great. If we're paired off, I call not-Kendrian,” Iefyr mumbled as he caught up to Tessen.
“Same.” Tessen averted his eyes as Kendrian looked toward him. The prince shoved his fair hair behind his ears and returned his stare to the waterfall. “He hates me.”
“He hates everyone and he hates being here. I can't say I fully blame him for his bitterness. He's the only person in his family who isn't magic-skilled, and they can't seem to stop reminding him of it. The only reason he's here is because his brothers in Anthora were relentless so Lyssa brought him with her when she split with High King.”
“That was six years ago and he's still an asshole.” Tessen kept his eyes on the ground, this time to avoid Kemi's stare rather than Kendrian's. “His dragon doesn't even like him. This is the first time I've seen them together.” He coughed and shifted his focus toward Kendrian. The young elf was agitated and the air about him sparked with dismay. “He's . . . I can feel him. He's anxious, maybe even fearful.”
“You have something in common, then. Maybe you should try befriending him.” Iefyr nudged Tessen's side, then patted Auna's head. “I'm serious.”
“Told you, he hates me. Hates you and Ragan too, for that matter. He blames us for the only sibling he got along with dying in the arena. He hates that Ragan and I are friends with his sister. I've tried talking to him a couple times, but he just insults me and walks away.”
A single hand clap jolted Tessen's attention forward. Lyssandra's eyes were fixed upon him. She raised an eyebrow and said, “Tessen and Iefyr, you can mumble at each other all you want another time. The moon has risen. Come sit down.”
“Sorry,” Tessen mumbled, then sat on the moss between Ragan and Yana. Cadriel scurried over Ragan's knees to flick his tongue at Tessen's knuckles, then retreated and scrambled into Ragan's jacket pocket.
Lyssandra crouched before Ragan and held out her hand. “You'll need to come out of there, little one. I have the world to show you.” Her voice was gentle and soothing, and something about her tone always made Tessen sleepy. He had trouble maintaining attention when she spoke to him at length. “Cadriel, sweet little dragon. Come out of hiding and greet the moon. There is nothing to fear.”
Cadriel's white head popped out of Ragan's pocket. His feet grasped the heavy jacket fabric, then he jumped onto Lyssandra's outstretched hand.
Ragan smiled and shook his head. “Only thing he's afraid of is being stepped on. And losing whatever treasure he's claimed.”
Lyssandra clicked her tongue at Cadriel as she carried him away and placed him between the two most prominent horns on Cardanaroz's head. The pixie dragon was comically tiny paired with the mature silver dragon. Lyssandra turned back around and said, “Ragan, you're with me tonight. Yana is with Elsin, Iefyr is with Kembriana, and Tessen is with Kendrian.”
Tessen coughed into his elbow. Great, he thought, another misery in an already shitty evening.
“Tessen, do you have an objection?”
He shook his head and ignored Kendrian's frigid stare. “No. I have a cold.”
Lyssandra tilted her head and regarded Te
ssen with tangible skepticism. “You do look fatigued. This lesson will not be long, but it is important. Young dragons, secure yourselves on the backs of your paired dragons. Dragonbound, pair up and make yourselves comfortable. We're going flying.”
Reluctantly, Tessen stood and joined Kendrian at the edge of the waterfall. Ara, Kendrian's silver dragon, left the water and shook herself off before crouching so Serida could jump onto her back.
Approaching breathless, Tessen coughed again.
“She won't drop your dragon. I like dragons too much to let her,” Kendrian whispered. There was a hollowness to the air surrounding him, a vague discomfort that would unnerve even a non-empath.
“Didn't think you liked anything,” Tessen muttered. He sat on a thick patch of moss and Kendrian sat down to face him. The elf's jaw tensed as his shifted closer so his knees touched Tessen's. He was older than Tessen by three years, but much slighter, and he looked far more like Nylian than any other Lightborn sibling Tessen had met.
“I don't like people. I do like dragons.” Kendrian's voice was distant and soft, as if his mind had detached itself from his vocal cords and he needed to concentrate to forge a connection. “I don't like you. You're flaky and submissive, and I hate that you can feel what I'm feeling. I hate empaths. They're invasive and intrusive. They meddle in things they know nothing about. Mother keeps you here because she thinks you're worth something, but we'd be better off if you'd leave.”
“Well, sorry. I don't like you, either.”
Kendrian narrowed his eyes and nodded toward Ara. “She disagrees with me, but only because Lenna likes you. I do like Serida. She's intelligent and spirited. Such a waste that she's bound to you.”
“Your father thought the same thing before he met me. Not a sarding damned thing anyone can do about it and I've made peace with it, so I really don't care what you have to say about the matter. Now let's just get this over with so we can be free of each other again.” Tessen sputtered his lips through a sigh. “You know, we could be friends if you'd stop treating me like something you stepped on in a cow pasture.”
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