“The king sent your young lord into the city on official business. He asked me to stand in as your tutor for the day. I thought he informed you, my dear,” she says, reading my surprise.
I shake my head as she closes the dense volume. “No. He didn’t. We’re kind of…in a fight,” I reveal, sliding into the chair. She takes a seat across from me, her gray robes billowing around her.
“That is rather common with familiars and their bonded.” Gnorr chuckles softly.
“Why?”
“With ties so strong, it is natural for there to be a push and pull among the dynamic. Familiars are like twin spirits, an extension of oneself. A part of you lives in him, and he in you.”
“I didn’t realize it was so complex,” I admit. “Zadyn and I fight like family. I took it too far this time.” Shame washes over me once again as I remember the look on his face right before he walked away from me. It was as if I’d slapped him.
She pats my hand gently. “It will pass.”
“Thank you.” I turn my hand over in hers and give it a squeeze. “So, what are we learning today?”
“I thought we might try waking a dragon.”
“You—youwant me to wake the dragon? Today?” I sputter. “How?”
“We need to establish communication between the two of you. It will make bonding her easier when the time comes.”
“Communication?”
“A psychic connection.” She taps her temple twice before continuing on. “Prophyria has been asleep for nearly two thousand years. It would be unwise to jar her from her slumber without warning.”
“Twothousandyears.” I blow out a long breath, shaking my head in disbelief.
Gnorr nods. “She has been stirring restlessly beneath thatmountain, waiting for you. Those who have tried to rouse her in the past have met an untimely demise.”
“If she was asleep, then how did they?—”
“They say never to wake a sleepwalker.” Gnorr eyes me knowingly. “It frightens them. Accidents happen. Her consciousness rests outside the bounds of time while her physical form is in a mechanical state to protect against any potential threats.”
“She’s on autopilot,” I mutter to myself. Gnorr tilts her head in confusion. “I think I understand. If I don’t make contact with her, she might think I’m a potential threat and barbecue me.”
“Essentially,” Gnorr assents.
“So how do I make contact?” I ask. She rises to her feet with all the grace of a High Fae and motions for me to follow her toward the brown leather couch in the alcove between the windows. She ushers me to sit as she eases into the high-backed leather chair across from me and folds her hands in her lap.
“We will meditate.”
I eye her incredulously. “I have to warn you, I’m not great at sitting still for extended periods of time.”
“You will have no trouble.” She gestures for me to lie back. With a sigh, I lift my leather-clad legs onto the long couch and rest my head back against the massive, cushioned arm.
“Close your eyes, child,” she says softly, her voice soothing and hypnotic.
I obey, folding my hands over my stomach.
We start by counting breaths. Following them in and out. Before I know it, I’m surrounded by silence.
No thoughts. No sounds. Quiet. Peace.
I can hear Gnorr’s words like background noise, but I don’t comprehend them.
I wake feeling more rested than an eight-hour night of sleep.
Blinking my eyes, I glance over at her as she watches me patiently. I turn my gaze to the window above me and bolt upright. Bright stars line the night sky, casting a soft glow on the snow-capped mountain peaks just beyond the glass.
