"That depends," I repeated my answer.
"On what?"
"On whether the royal court of Catonia demands that we take you back."
45
KAILIN
"The dreamer does not choose the dream. The dream chooses the dreamer, arriving unbidden at the critical hour, speaking truths the waking mind would rather not hear."
—Shaman Kethris, Meditations on Prophecy
The wine was a gift from Commander Ravel, delivered with a note.Congratulations.You've earned this.
Shovia had uncorked it with theatrical flair, and now we sat in a loose circle in the common room, passing the bottle between us. Elucian wine was expensive, and this particular vintage, a deep red from the southern vineyards, was usually gifted to the bride and groom to celebrate their wedding night.
Ravel was incredibly generous for getting it for us.
"To making it this far," Codric said, raising the bottle before taking a swig.
"To passing the written portion," Morek added when the bottle reached him. "I still can't believe I did it."
Shovia snatched the bottle from his hands. "To finally being done with studying."
The wine made its way to Alar, who held it for a moment, staring at the dark liquid inside. "To the five of us," he said. "May we all find our perfect bonding partners."
He drank and passed it to me.
I took a sip, letting the rich flavor coat my tongue. It was so good, better than anything I'd tasted before, but I didn't want to drink too much. Tomorrow was the most important day of my life, and I needed to be sharp.
"Drink up," Shovia encouraged. "We are finishing this bottle tonight."
"I want to be alert tomorrow."
"It's just one bottle of wine split five ways. You're not going to get drunk from this tiny amount."
She had a point. I took another sip, slightly larger this time, and passed the bottle back to Shovia to start another round.
"I want a fast dragon," Morek said. "To fit my temperament."
Shovia took a swig and passed the bottle to Codric again. "I hope for a coolheaded one who will balance my impulsiveness."
Codric took the bottle. "I don't care which dragon I bond with as long as it's not the brooding type. I need someone I can talk to."
"Dragons don't brood," I said.
"Some of them do," Codric insisted. "Even Nyxath does it sometimes. She gets this look in her eyes like she's contemplating the futility of existence."
I waved a dismissive hand. "She's ancient. She's probably just thinking about how exhausting we all are."
"Same thing."
Alar laughed at that, but the sound was hollow. I reached over and squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back, but I could sense that something was wrong.
I filed that away for later. Tonight was for celebration, not interrogation.
The bottle emptied faster than I expected. Morek claimed the last few drops, tilting it back until every bit of wine was gone.
