We banked over the forest, the lake passing underneath us in a flash. My stomach was like a tennis ball inside me, each turn, each dive, each climb leaving me on the verge of revisiting my supper. Myth had never flown like this in lessons. And while Shep’s words to me about proving my place here had left a sour taste in my mouth, he was right that I’d never get practice like this at the lair. At least not soon enough to win this year’s race. To beat Covington, I neededthis.
So I let Myth fly.
I didn’t whisper any commands to him at all, not even bothering to tell him to keep up with the others. This was his hunt, and I was merely along for the ride. I only hoped I lived through it.
He veered away from the group, flying a little apart from them but never so far that we lost sight of the others. When he dove through the trees, I was certain I’d die. But the straps and my white-knuckled grip kept me in the saddle. My screams dwindled into silent panic that eventually faded into an exhilarating thrill. By the tenth time we’d nose-dived toward the ground, I was smiling like an idiot and watching with my eyes open.
It only occurred to me that Myth hadn’t caught anything when I watched a rabbit hop across the ground, easily within his reach.
“You let him go!” I shouted over the wind whipping at my face.
A swell of pride surged in me that felt at odds with my recent panic. Myth beat his wings, bulleted through the tree branches, and came down hard on a deer so startled it barely had time to take a single leap.
The sudden jolt at our stop had me slamming into Myth’s neck. “Ow!” I huffed, rubbing my chest where his spikes had bumped me.
The deer was already being torn apart beneath me. I held my hand under my nose and looked up, humming to try to cover the sounds.
Myth’s elation, however, seeped into me, masking the disgust I felt until I was barely aware of the animal getting eaten below me. When he was finished—faster than I thought possible—we took to the skies again, this time his flying less aggressive, less hurried.
We floated back toward the lair, a tangible peace pulsing on the strange connection between us. I smiled and patted his neck.
“Thank you for not letting me die,” I said as we dropped through the oculus. A few of the others were already back. Among them, Shep, who must have already unsaddled Petra and put her in her den.
He hurried toward us when we landed. “How was it?” he asked, his expression and tone almost cautious.
I pulled my matted hair from my face and climbed down from the saddle. The feeling of solid ground beneath me was comforting. “The truth? Terrifying. And also amazing.”
Shep clapped. “That’s the spirit. I’m glad you had fun.” He leaned forward. “For a minute there, I was afraid you’d kill me when we got back.”
“It crossed my mind.”
We laughed as he helped me unsaddle Myth. The entire time, my legs shook and my heart raced from the adrenaline of the ride, but through it all, I couldn’t stop beaming at Myth. He was incredible. He was fast. He’d been holding back in lessons, and I was to blame.
But now that I’d seen him really fly, I felt like, maybe, we actually had a chance.
CHAPTER 19
“Ineed some quiet,” I announced to Vanya the next evening as I attempted to read a book on my assigned monarch. A pack of boys was playing a rowdy game of cards over by the couches, and one of the second years had his violin out and was practicing a song by the window. Vanya flipped her book closed, the latest romance by the popular author Vivienne Arnaud.
“I’ll come,” she said, standing.
“I think I might have to stay all night for this one,” I said, hoping it was a decent excuse. I wanted to look for more books on dragonfire.
“It’s not due for another week, Ar.” But at my expression, she added, “Okay, I’m coming.” She smiled and followed me from the common room, clearly misreading my flat expression as a plea for company.
Keeping the truth from Vanya was painful, but Fairfax had warned me not to reveal my hand too soon. I couldn’t help what Covington knew, but I at least would give Myth his greatest chance and not tell anyone else. There were so many things that I hadn't really considered when I’d decided, in awave of emotion, to come to Cardan Lott. There had been joy, excitement, ambition, and not much else. Keeping a wild dragon was one thing. Training it to be a racer, to fly in close proximity to other dragons, was another thing entirely. Dragons used their flame for dominance as much as defense, and I wasn’t sure I could simply train that out of him. His sparks would turn to real flames soon enough.
When we got to the library, it was mostly empty, save for a few second years clacking away at typewriters, clearly chasing a deadline. The sound was oddly soothing, keeping the library from being eerily quiet. In one corner, I spotted Covington slouched over a desk, tapping his pen lightly on the wood. He glanced up at me as I walked through the double doors and slid into a seat at a table on the opposite end of the room.
The fact that he was here drew my mind back to my dragon, but I opened my history book and tried to focus on the words. An hour later, my eyes kept bouncing off the words on the page.
Shep had sauntered in a half hour ago with a pair of third years, and it had killed my concentration, my eyes drifting to him entirely too often.
At one point, Shep looked up and caught me staring. My cheeks flamed. He closed his book and pushed back from the table, dismissing himself from his friends with a quiet wave. Shep tapped the table as he walked past us, drawing our attention from our papers. “Get some sleep, ladies,” he whispered, his eyes lingering on me as he slowly turned toward the library doors.
When he was gone, Vanya’s lips pinched back a smile. “Keep it up, and he’ll ask you to the spring ball.”
“The what?” I said, my voice rising a little too loud. A few other faces glanced up at me, including Covington’s. I lowered my voice so I was barely audible and leaned against the table. “What ball?”
