“Besides, you know that my father won’t allow you to go on your own. No one travels on their own, and the only reason you did earlier today is because it was your bloodrite, and you needed to prove yourself. This is more than your bloodrite now, and you will need help. Better it come from me and not someone you trust less.”
I roll my eyes and pull my hand out from under her. “There is no one I trust less than you.”
She laughs as she hurries after me. “Am I riding Drekki or Worm?”
“Worm, I suppose,” I say after taking a moment to consider her. “I’ll ride on Drekki with the imperial prisoner.
“Hopefully that won’t be too much of struggle for him.”
I purse my lips. “It will be heavy, but Drekki is strong. He can make it if I ask him to.”
“I meant having to carry an Imperial on his back,” Tira replies. “I know that he can carry the weight, it’s just having to carry a useless weight that I pity him for. I know I certainly wouldn’t want an Imperial onmyback.”
“No, you much prefer your enemies on your front.”
Tira’s lip quirks. “It has a certain sort of effect, you know.”
I give my head a sharp shake. “You are incorrigible.”
Tira laughs, and I allow my lips to quirk upward into a smile, but that smile slides off my face as I leave my house and make my way to the clearing outside our village. I take in my two dragons standing there already saddled. Two of our warriors stand on either side of the prisoner. His presence reminds me of the direness of the situation and the Valknut staining my skin.
Both my dragons lift their heads as I approach, likely catching my scent. I let out a low whistle. “Are you ready to go?” I ask the two of them as I reach their sides.
“Where exactly are we going?” the Imperial asks, eying the dragons warily. He’s still making the same mistake that he made before by thinking that the dragons are the threat here instead of the girl who controls them.
“Shut your mouth, whelp,” Tira snarls as she steps up to Worm. He lets out a soft growl as he nuzzles her wrist. Worm hates most everything in this world, including his own brother, the only person he truly loves is me. The only person he tolerates is Tira.
“Marcello,” the imperial says.
We both turn toward him. “What?” Tira asks sharply.
He presses his bound hands against his chest. “My name is Marcello. Marcello Placidus.” He moves his hands out, gesturing to her. “Might I have your name?”
“Tira,” she says after a moment’s hesitation. I glance at her, and she shrugs.
Marcello turns to me. “And I heard the others referring to you as Laduga.”
I jerk my chin toward Drekki. “Get on the dragon.”
Marcello steps forward, hesitating as he glances first at Tira and then at me. “I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. You seem to be under the impression that we are enemies, but I’m just a man named Marcello, and you are two girls I only met today. I don’t know you nearly well enough to make the judgement that you are my enemies. I hope you can extend me the same curtesy.”
“You’re an Imperial,” I say. “That’s reason enough to hate you.”
Marcello shrugs. “Maybe so, but I’d wager that you don’t know nearly as much about my people as you think. We are not represented by the brutish soldiers you have likely experienced. We are quite civilized, and most prefer to talk out our problems in the public forums rather than resort to violence of any sort. Just as I’m sure your people are not the barbarians that we have been led to believe.”
“Get on the dragon,” I grind out, reaching for my ax. “Or I will make you.”
He presses his lips into a thin line. “Or perhaps my people are entirely correct in their assumptions.”
Chapter Six
The Dragon Flight
Marcelloturns,eyingthetwo warriors then his gaze flicks to me and Tira and finally the dragons. He’s clearly calculating his odds, but I don’t know what conclusion he draws because he shutters his gaze and holds up his bound hands. “So how are we doing this? Am I sitting in the front or the back?”
“Back,” I reply stepping up to Drekki, I say a silent apology to him for forcing him to carry two riders, but I doubt he will really mind. He’s a bit of a showoff, and he probably will relish the challenge. I rub my thumb over the rough section of scales where his snout meets his horns and then pull myself up into the saddle, situating my feet into the stirrups.
Marcello steps up beside me, a pensive frown causing a furrow to form between his thick brows. “And I’m expected to do it all with my hands bound?”
