"We should do this again," he said. "After bonding. Make it a tradition."
"Assuming we all bond," Shovia said.
"We will." Codric's voice was unusually serious. "The prophecy requires it."
"The prophecy requires seven," I reminded him. "We're only five plus Commander Ravel, and it says nothing about us even being riders. Only about the five of us arriving together."
"We'll find the seventh one. But the five of us are meant to be riders. I'm certain of it."
I wished I shared his certainty. The truth was, none of us knew what tomorrow would bring. Dragons chose their riders through some mystical process that even the shaman didn't fully understand. The bond either happened or it didn't.
Codric was right about one thing, though. The prophecy had brought us together, and I had to believe it would see us through in some way.
"We should sleep," I said, rising from my spot on the floor. "We have to be up before dawn again."
Alar followed me into our room, and as he closed the door behind us, I pulled him into my arms. "Are you worried about tomorrow?"
"Of course, I am."
I pressed my cheek to his chest, listening to his heart beating steadily beneath my ear.
"I'm worried too, but I have to believe that everything will turn out fine."
His arms tightened around me. "I believe so, too. We've gotten this far, right?"
Something in his voice didn't quite match his words, and I pulled back to look at his face. "Are you feeling okay? You sound off."
"I'm fine. It's just the stress."
"You're a terrible liar."
"I'm not—" He stopped, exhaled slowly. "It's my father. I'm worried."
Of course he was. "After the bonding, you can request a leave of absence. Saphir knows who you are and why you are here. He might approve it."
Alar sighed. "I can't think about that now. Everything has to wait until after the bonding."
I understood, and I didn't want to add to his stress by pressuring him to talk about a subject that was so painful to him.
We waited until the others were done with the bathroom, and after taking turns there ourselves, we climbed into bed together.
I settled into my usual position with my head on Alar's shoulder. The sleeping draught I'd prepared was waiting for me on the nightstand.
Alar sniffed it. "That's not the tea."
"No. It's the sleeping draught. I'm not taking any chances before the Day of Volition."
Relief flooded his features. "Good. I'm glad you are reasonable about this." He kissed my forehead. "I hate watching you suffer through those visions. One night of peace is a gift."
I drank the draught and returned the cup to the nightstand.
"I love you," he murmured against my hair.
"I love you too."
The sleeping draught worked quickly. Within minutes, I felt myself drifting, consciousness loosening its grip.
I let go and fell into what I hoped would be a dreamless sleep.
