Faron felt as if she were on fire for a second, a minute, an hour, a lifetime. Her nerves crawled as if she were being shaken from the inside out, as if Irie were shoving against Faron’s ill-fitting skin in an attempt to make room for more magic than her body couldhold. Her vision whited out. Her ears rang. Her heart pounded so fast that she thought it would stop.
Then it was over. Irie was within her, but Faron was in control.
And she had a race to win.
A bead of sweat rolled down Faron’s cheek as she blinked into the present. The riotous jeers of the crowd flowed back in. The dragon egg peeked out from over the top of the corner store in the distance. Jordan was still in front of her.
But not for long.
Faron called on the divine magic now at her fingertips and willed it to push her body beyond its limits. In the five years she’d spent with the gods, she’d found more creative uses for Irie’s powers than roasting breadfruit. The sun was fire, energy,power. She directed that power into her lagging muscles and wheezing lungs, feeling Irie’s magic leak past the goddess’s obvious disapproval.
One minute, Faron was trying not to faint before she crossed the finish line. The next, she was eating up the distance between her and Jordan until she was close enough to count his locs.
He frowned at her. “Hey, Vincent! That’s not fair!”
“Take it up with my patron,” she sang back. “You can find a statue of her in any temple!”
Jordan cursed so colorfully that Faron laughed as she skipped past, leaving him to choke on the cloud of dust her feet kicked up.
The town square yawned open before her, surrounded by squat wooden storefronts too low to block out the sun. Her hand slapped the short brick wall that surrounded the egg a moment later. Technically, this was where the race ended, but adrenaline pulsed through her, twining with her borrowed magic. She jumped the wall and kept running until she hit the egg, then reached up to grabone of the massive scales that made up its sickly gray shell. The wall had been built to keep people from doing exactly what Faron was doing right now, but she wasn’t the first Deadegg teenager to make this climb and she wouldn’t be the last. The egg predated the town, probably predated the island based on the petrified stone that coated the scales, and Faron had come to find it comforting.
Sure, dragons hatched from living eggs this size—eggs of gorgeous color hiding terrifying young monsters within—butthisone was a monument. It was part of her home. More than that, it was proof that dragons couldn’t just be born and cruel and dangerous; they could be killed and defeated and forgotten.
Faron had survived the decades-long war against the Langlish Empire, a world power to the east of San Irie that used dragons as fire-breathing weapons to conquer land that was never theirs to own. By now, she knew the monsters’ weaknesses better than almost anyone. But it was nice to have more than memories. More than nightmares.
She perched on top of the egg, her skirts spilling back down to her ankles, and grinned as she waited for Jordan to catch up. The constant scent of brimstone wafted from the base, but Faron ignored it. Magic still hummed under her skin, waiting for further direction, and she didn’t want to let it go yet. She wasn’t ready for the crushing emptiness and dizzying exhaustion that would follow.
This is a poor use of my abilities, Empyrean, a smoky voice grumbled at the back of her mind.Must you always be so childish?
Of the three gods, Irie was always the one most devoted to making Faron feel like a toddler. Obie, the god of the moon and the lord of the night, spoke so rarely that Faron could ignore hisdisapproval most of the time. Mala, the goddess of the stars and the keeper of the astrals, was the most likely to encourage Faron’s stupidity. But Irie took her role as the supreme goddess very seriously—so seriously that Faron often wondered if she regretted giving their power to Faron in the first place.
Even though it had been five years since Faron had completed her calling as the Childe Empyrean and freed the island from Langlish occupation.
Even though the gods were the ones who had decided, for some reason, to stick around after the empire’s retreat.
Even though she deserved to live her own life now. A peaceful life. With or without Irie’s approval.
Empyrean, Irie snapped when she didn’t answer.Ignoring me does not undo your immaturity.
I’m seventeen, she reminded the goddess.And my name is Faron.
You are the Childe Empyrean. These insipid stunts cannot change the truth.
Faron forced herself not to respond. There was nothing she could say that wouldn’t sound ridiculous anyway. The war was over, Langley’s colonial hold on San Irie shattered and their remaining dragons subdued, but the iconography of the Childe Empyrean was still spread across the island. Santi commanded respect and reverence for devoting their lives to gods that may or may not answer their prayers, but Faron was a thing of legend. A living saint. Tangible proof that the Iryan gods not only existed… but they were listening.
If she entered the corner store that Jordan was currently jogging past, she would see her own face, five years younger, smiling in miniature from hand-carved statues. Every year, people across theisland made pilgrimages to her house, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, begging her to intercede between them and the gods. Blamingherif their wishes didn’t come true.
Even still, she didn’t hold that against them. The war with the Langlish had taken something from everyone, including those who hadn’t fought. Faron understood better than anyone how bleak helplessness could lead people to ask someone more powerful for help. She just wished she could tell those hopeful crowds that they wouldn’t necessarily like the answer they’d be given.
“Cheater,” Jordan complained as he approached, pulling her from her dark thoughts. “I didn’t use any summoning to win the race.”
“That’s hardly my concern.” Faron lifted her eyebrows in a picture of innocence. “And youdidn’twin the race.”
“We said no powers.”
“Yousaid no powers. I don’t remember agreeing with you.”
Jordan scowled. “You always do this.”
