“What was the other part?”
“That the Dragon Rider wouldn’t be born here, in Solterre.That she was hidden in another world for protection. The king was one of the few who knew. He and my parents.”
“Your parents know the king?”
A muscle in his jaw ticks. “They were all friends.”
“Then maybe he’ll see you, maybe he’ll listen to you,” I point out excitedly, but he shakes his head.
“I don’t know the male. I want to do some spying first. Make sure the king’s intentions are pure.”
“And if they’re not?”
“Then I’ll get you out of here,” he says without hesitation.
“I thought you said they wouldn’t truly hurt me.”
“You are an asset to them. But I’m not willing to gamble when it comes to you.” A chill shoots through me for some reason. I pivot, breaking his intense gaze.
“Why did the captain say he thinks I’m a witch but not a Blackblood?”
“He probably thinks you’re a Red or Blue.”
I stare at him blankly.
“Say more.”
“At one point in time, there were three clans: the Redbloods, the Bluebloods, and the Blackbloods,” Zadyn outlines. “Reds are the most common. Their power is slight, drawing mostly from nature. The Blues have a higher concentration of magic in their blood, so they can essentially siphon off themselves and others. But the Blackbloods”—his eyes sparkle as he leans forward—“were, by far, the most powerful and most feared.”
I find myself leaning in too, my interest piqued.
“Banshees, necromancers, shadow walkers—all black-blooded. They were warriors with a unique ability to serve as conduits for obscene amounts of power. That’s why only a Blackblood would be fit to be a Dragon Rider. For a Red or Blue to channel a dragon’s power, they would be incinerated instantaneously.”
Yet they wantmeto attempt it?Lovely.
“Before Solterre was split off into five kingdoms, it was one unified land ruled by three Blackblood High Queens. They were the most fearsome creatures in the world, up until the time they were killed off.”
“What happened to them?”
“They were destroyed by the god that created them.”
I raise my eyebrows in surprise.
Zadyn continues along his previous train of thought. “To maintain the balance of power within nature, the witches feed on their own kind.”
“I’m sorry, what? No, no, no, I draw the line at cannibalism.” I scoot back toward the wall, shaking my head vehemently.
“It sounds worse than it is,” he rushes to explain, holding up a hand. “The Bluebloods drink red blood, and the Blackbloods drink blue.”
“What do the Reds drink?”
“They don’t need to drink. They draw power from the land and celestial events.”
“So the Blues and Blacks are like vampires?”
“Vampires aren’t real.” He laughs, and I stare at him blankly.
“That’s what they said about fae. About witches,” I snap.
