“And Rosanthra is Ebron’s last mate,” I add.
“What? But he’s a Hollowborn. A Hollowborn has never been a rider before. Only the Dravari can make that connection with a dragon. At least, that’s what history tells us,” Alaric says, shocked.
“I know,” I whisper, staring at the four dragons as they move about each other, sniffing and making strange noises.
“This is a lot to process,” Alaric says, sitting down. “No one is going to believe this.”
“I hardly believe it myself,” Sevrin says, but he still sounds shocked.
My stomach grumbles.
Gareth glances at me. “We need to focus on why we’re here. To recover before our next stop.”
Sevrin grimaces. “Gore Rock?”
Lucien grins, white teeth flashing. “Don’t worry. We won’t let them kill you and put your head on a pike.”
“Very reassuring,” Sevrin jokes, but his expression is serious.
I glance at the field of dragons, now a harmonious group of five, and raise my eyebrows. “You think Rosanthra can keep up?”
“She’ll be fine. I think,” Sevrin says.
Alaric goes over the plan again. “We’ll leave tomorrow at first light. Today we rest, eat, and prep the dragons for a long flight.”
“And hope that Gore Rock is more welcoming than it's been to me in the past,” Sevrin offers, looking uncertain.
The words settle around us like an omen. For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of dragons in the field, wings moving and tails slapping, and the wind in the grass. I breathe in, let the scent of new leaves and salt air fill my lungs, and realize that I’m nervous. Not just about Gore Rock, but about going to Sevrin’s lands.
Not that I can do anything about that now.
We walk back to the camp together, five people entangled together, and the whole world ahead of us. A world of possibilities. Of peace. Or war. Depending on how all of this goes.
And somewhere in the distance, Gore Rock waits.
19
Harper
We’ve been flyingfor two days straight, unable to land on anything, with the ocean stretching out in all directions around us. My thighs are chafed. My eyelids feel like sandpaper. My ass is aching in places I didn’t know existed. It’s, frankly, an even more miserable trip than I expected.
I look over my shoulder and see Gareth, Lucien, Sevrin, and Alaric behind me, each riding their own dragons, and behind them, spread out across the horizon like a storm, is a cloud of female dragons, all wild and skittish and held together by Ebron’s magnetic command.
I want to close my eyes for just one second and get a break from just being awake and present. Instead, I focus on the dark clouds gathering over the ocean ahead, where the first piece of land is just starting to pierce the haze. Gore Rock. Home to fifty to one hundred dragon riders, most of whom haven't been back home in months. Most of whom have been doing nothing since arriving to the island but fighting any and all Hollowborn that try to stop at Gore Rock in order to rest on their way to our lands.
Most of whom will want to kill Sevrin at just the sight of him.
Still… the princes are here. They’re not only the leaders of the Dravari, but also men who have spent their own time on Gore Rock, so they should have the respect of their people. Enough respect to listen to them about the Hollowborn being friends and not foes any longer. Besides, we’re desperate for a break. I know Sevrin will be safe with us at his side. Iknowit. So, I can just try to be excited about finally seeing land.
Ebron shares my sentiment. He’s grumbling every third wingbeat, sending a vibration through my ribcage that’s both soothing and a little like being in a slow-motion earthquake.
Almost there, he rumbles in my head.
Close enough to taste it.
I will not be tasting the land.
I laugh.You don’t have to actually do that.
