Every half year, a group of Dakkari would be chosen from a highly experienced applicant pool and sent to specific territorieswithin the nation of Karak. To learn from them, to live their way of life, and, for those brave enough, to try their hand at bonding with an Elthika of their own. The riding schools were rigorous, intense, and, at times, fatal. And no allowances or mercies were offered if you were a Dakkari.
But there were other opportunities that weren’t rider training. Like working their farmlands or apprenticing under a healer or learning ancient recipes from their seasoned cooks or journeying to their sacred places, infused with heartstone magic, for research.
“TheDothikkarand his advisors believe that the Karag are planning an attack soon,” Kiron told me in a mere whisper. I sucked in a sharp breath, a spear of fear sliding into my belly.
“What are you saying?” I whispered back, utterly still. “On Dothik?”
“TheDothikkarhas tasked a select group of his guardsmen,” he said with a nod, “with a mission of getting information throughout Karak’s territories.”
I realized what he was saying. “You mean tospy.”
He inclined his head. When he said nothing else, I felt an odd prickling sensation across the back of my neck, which trailed down my spine.
“You want…meto be a spy for theDothikkar?”
The words left my lips in a tumble that nearly made me laugh.
“Lysi,” my brother said.
A stuttered breath escaped me. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Are you out of your mind?”
“I wouldn’t ask this of you unless I had no other choice.”
“Why don’tyougo?” I tossed out, half-panicked when I heard the seriousness in my brother’s tone.
When he remained quiet, I felt my panic shift, fear rising for a different reason. “I might have to.”
“Not for rider training, surely,” I hissed softly, grabbing his arm. “Kiron.”
Three Dakkari had already died in the attempt during the last exchanges. No Dakkari had ever succeeded at claiming an Elthika of their own. Well, save for the princess, Klara.
“The territory of Grym has capped the exchange positions to four this season. Two guardsmen are already approved for rider training. Another is the eldest son of a retired guardsman. He’ll be there working the land to learn about their food supply, imports, exports. The last position would fall to me. And it would be to fill another slot in the rider training.”
“No,” I said sharply, my belly dropping. “Kiron, you can’t. Surely there’s…”
But I trailed off. Knowing thatthiswas the other option.
Me.
Something settled inside me. A fresh bloom of fear, but also one of acceptance.
“I’m no fool,” Kiron said with a wry smile as he leaned harder against the balcony, looking out over the shimmering of Drukkar’s Sea in the distance. The moon reflected off its surface, a faint sliver, like a curved blade, hanging in the night sky. “I have no notable skills other than combat fighting. I learned to be a good guard, to protect, to patrol, to keep the peace. I like to think I’d do well on the back of a dragon…but the truth is that it terrifies me, Amaia.”
“You want me to take your place in Grym,” I said quietly. “But…if there’s a space open in the rider training, then?—”
“Notas a rider, Amaia,” Kiron said firmly, turning to me, catching my shoulder so that I faced him. “I would rather plunge off the back of an Elthika myself than make you take my place there. There is one other position open for the exchanges.”
“What is it?”
“A position in the hatchery.”
“The hatchery,” I whispered, looking at him with an unfocused gaze. “AnElthikanhatchery?”
He inclined his head.
I sucked in a sharp breath, my mind hardly able to process it.A much safer option,I thought.
“Why can’t you take the hatchery position?” I asked.
