“I’ve finally read all the books in the library about the Gray Saint, the First Dragon, and the Draconian Wars. After he ended the war, the Gray Saint became a despot. The first four people who he taught to bond with dragons became his generals, helping him bring the rest of the world to heel. Some sources say that the Four Generals betrayed him, and others say that the people rose against them all. But either way, he and the First Dragon disappeared from history.”
“Okay,” Faron said to Reeve. “And… how does that help us, exactly?”
“Because that’sallthese books say.” Reeve stared at her as if this should mean something. “Every single one of them just says he disappeared from history.”
“That’s not what Zephyra told me,” Elara added, following his train of thought in a way that Faron could not. “She said that nowhere in the legends does it claim that theydied, but if they disappeared—”
“That’s the thing. Langley has multiple legends about what happened, but it’s not that they diedordisappeared. In fact, one version of the legend claims that the Gray Saint and the First Dragon went into stasis somewhere and will return one day once certain conditions are met. It’s the most famous version.”
“And it’s not in any of the Seaview books?”
“Not a single one.Seaview was occupied during the war, until your army reclaimed it, and now all the books left here are missing the most famous legend about the Gray Saint? What if Langley didn’twantus to have record of it? What if raising the First Dragon has been the plan all along?”
Faron swallowed as Reeve paused triumphantly in front of the fireplace. Part of her wanted to feel excluded by how easily they fell into step with each other even with an ocean between them, but the rest of her had turned to stone. An alarm was going off in her head, drowning out every other thought. “You think the First Dragon is… what, here? Somewhere in San Irie? And that’s why your father won’t leave us alone?”
“I don’t know about that, but Idothink the First Dragon was the most powerful dragon in history. A perfect weapon against San Irie. Against the world. My father said that ignorance was the reason Langley was a laughingstock. He’s destroyed any record of this legend, leaving the library intact so we wouldn’t notice. This has to be it. This has to be his plan. And I think he’s close to seeing it through.”
Faron realized she was shaking her head, but she couldn’t stop. “How close?”
It was Elara who answered the question, her tone slow and thoughtful. “Signey told me that the commander brought her to San Irie under false pretenses, claiming that she might find her co-Rider among fictional delegates from Isalina. And in the letters I told you about, he mentioned solving two problems with one action. What if… what if he figured out that the final Rider had to be from another country, and he used the Summit to test three countries at once? What if every dragon having a Rider is one of the conditions to awaken the First Dragon?”
“Because the First Dragon brought them all here from the divine plane, taught them how to bond with humans. Or the Gray Saint did, according to Faron,” Reeve breathed. “But maybe that’s why the Gray Saint spoke to Faron the same night Zephyra bonded with you. We woke him first. Which would mean he’s the next step, somehow.”
Elara swore. “Signey’s already upset that she might be related to the Gray Saint. She’s not going to like that the bond she’s dreamed of might have led to all this.”
“We don’t know that it has,” Reeve reassured her. “These are just theories.”
Faron’s fingers tightened around the fabric of her dress, her mind on Gael’s promise to teach her how to command living souls. Would it actually help free her sister? Or had summoning him only given him more power? He’d come to her of his own volition a month ago, and he was looking more and more solid every day.…
The Gray Saint was getting closer and closer to full strength.
Because of her.
Because she’d jumped in without waiting for information. As always.
Guilt clenched her stomach. She hadn’t told Reeve or Elara about her connection with the Gray Saint, let alone about their lessons in the past month. She’d assumed they would chastise her, talk her out of it, and she’d wanted to surprise them with her success. Now she felt like the worst kind of fool.
“I can talk to the gods again,” she mumbled, not looking at Reeve or the fire. “I’ll bring them our theories and see if I can press them for more facts.”
“And you haven’t heard from the Gray Saint since that firstnight, right, Faron?” Elara asked. “Have you tried, I don’t know, calling him the way you do the gods?”
“No.” Faron toyed with a thread at the seam of her dress. “Should I?”
“Let’s try your gods first,” said Reeve. “At least until we know more. Acknowledging him might speed up the process.”
Faron tugged the thread loose. The seam widened into a hole, revealing a peek of sweaty brown skin. “All right. I’ll fire call the queen later. Maybe she has more books at the palace that she can send you.”
Reeve and Elara began to say their goodbyes to each other, peppered with promises to talk again soon, and Faron added her own hollow farewells. Her heart felt leaden in her chest from the lies she’d wrapped herself in, from the trap that she had walked into and now needed to destroy before it was too late.
But it wasn’t too late. Not yet. She would just tread even more lightly around Gael when he came to her again. If he was helping Commander Warwick raise the First Dragon, she would not be a pawn in that plan.
Gael Soto would learn the hard way that Faron was so much more than a plaything of the gods.
She was much worse than he had ever prepared for.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ELARA
