At first, Haldir looked disconcerted. Then his face lit up, and he said with self-satisfaction, “First, I would sell the hydra.”
Thomasina gasped. Evander choked on his bread and turned away, coughing into his elbow.
“I was under the impression that the hydra was a private pet and didn’t belong to the dracorium,” Valenna said, watching Evander nervously. As long as she’d known him, Hera had been at his elbow. He’d raised her from an egg. She couldn’t imagine Evander without Hera.
A malicious grin marred Haldir’s face. “It’s been eating our hay, sleeping in our barn, draining dracorium resources. Either it belongs to the dracorium, or Trevelyan here owes thirty thousand kibs to the queen.”
Valenna realized that Haldir was the worst type of fool: a devious fool.
Evander composed himself, clearing his throat. “Hydra aren’t vicious. They can’t be taken into combat.”
“They’re the national symbol of Ashkendor. There are countless legends of kings and queens riding them into battle …”
“Those are legends,” Evander interrupted. “They’re stories. Nothing more. Hera will fetch a good price, but she will create chaos on the battlefield, and whoever buys her will be furious, so what’s the point? It’s bad business.”
Waving Evander’s comments away, Haldir continued. “Let them be furious. We can’t lose their business. Where else can they get trained battle dragons?”
“And what will you do when you get fired because her new owner demands reparations?” Evander said with an incredulous laugh.
“What do you know?” Haldir snarled. “You’re just a woodcutter’s bastard from the plains.”
Evander’s jaw tightened, and he took a deep breath.“The hydra isn’t for sale.”
“She will be when I’m dragon master.”
Evander stood. “I think I’ve had enough scintillating conversation for one night. Have a lovely evening, Miss Castanaia.”
Chapter ten
Valenna
Willing herself not to watch Evander as he wended his way through the rollicking crowd, Velanna turned her attention to Thomasina, who rose from the table and walked to a small platform in the center of the grounds.
Haldir, smug with victory, stood, offered Valenna an exaggerated bow, and left.
“Attention, everyone,” Thomasina cried. “We are gathered this evening to send off our wonderful trainees from Cobblepine!”
The crowd cheered, and everyone raised their glasses.
“Tomorrow, their countrymen will arrive with the new yearlings and take our friends home until next autumn, when we will welcome a new group of trainees. It’s been an honor, as always, to have them and watch them grow in their knowledge of Dracology!”
Another cheer.
“Of course,” Thomasina continued, “none of this would be possible without the help of our head training officer, Evander Trevelyan!”
A somewhat flat applause followed, bereft of cheering. Valenna clapped a little too hard, glancing around in annoyance. They didn’t know what a privilege it was to train under Evander. Maybe he was sometimes blunt and exacting, but he knew more aboutdragons than any of them would learn in a decade anywhere else, and he was quite literally risking his life to teach them.
Thomasina went on to praise the trainees, Cobblepine, the queen, and a lot of other fluff.
Valenna couldn’t focus. Evander wasn’t himself. He was reckless and grim. His pupils were odd. Her appetite gone, Valenna stood and pushed through the onlookers, making for the barn. She caught up to Evander as he passed through a quiet copse of trees, away from the festival. He’d stopped to lean against a sturdy elm.
She approached timidly. “Vander …”
He looked up.
“Is Haldir serious?” she asked, holding up her long skirt as she picked her way over a tangle of roots. “Would he really sell Hera?”
Evander shook his head like he was shaking away the headache. “He’s right about the money. If he’s dragon master, he can do what he likes with her.”
