Marcella raises her hand, and after Lady Bethany nods, she asks, “So what you mean to say, is if a male dragon is mated and has transferred his magic, it’s easy to kill him with dragonblade? But if it’s a female post-mating, it’s likely even harder to kill her?”
“Precisely,” Lady Bethany answers, distaste only a frown away in her expression. “But once the mating process has begun and the mated pairs’ pheromones and scents change, it’s best you not come between them. Or challenge either of them. Males in particular are quite territorial as they greatly fixate on their partners. They’re even more aggressive over their females than they are with their young, and the females more aggressive over their young than their males. So your best bet at killing a dragon would be praying to the Gods itisn’tmated.”
Marcella dips her head in conclusion and is back to scribbling something on her paper.
Lady Bethany’s eyes narrow. “Right then. Time for your test. Everyone will have an hour to complete…” she trails on as she moves about the stage, but I get lost on the drawing of the dragon behind her.
Specifically, the slitted pupils that seem to be staring back at me.
Thirty-One
- MARCELLA -
After Lady Bethany dismisses us from our dragon study lesson, Lyra is pulled away by Aelia and several women to spend time out in the gardens. I try to weave through the crowd bottlenecked in the hallway spilling outside to the castle grounds. Once I’ve caught up to them strolling and laughing through one of the paths, I grab Lyra’s arm.
She and the other women turn to me.
“Can I…” I swallow as everyone’s eyes land on me expectantly. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”
Lyra dips her head and leaves with me. We walk further back into the gardens, away from the others.
Finally I whisper, “The next trial is less than two weeks away. You really want to be spending your free time wandering about in the gardens? You should be training.”
“Training?” She gives me a look. “Training what, exactly?”
I eye our surroundings before dipping my head low. “Your visions. You had another one during the lesson, didn’t you?” When her gaze drops to the ground I continue, “If that happens during a trial, it could mean your death.”
Her blue eyes flick back up to me. “But you’ll protect me.”
Straightening, I blow out a breath. “I’ll try, but there’s only so much I can do. What happens if you get pulled into a vision while we’re scaling the side of a mountain? Or…” I shrug. “Having to fight something? If you slip, I might not be able to save you.”
Her throat bobs, eyes widening. “Alright then, how can I train?”
“Try closing your eyes and working through your visions until you can master them. Focusing on your breath, slowing down until you can decipher them. Or slow them enough so you can block them out until it’s a more convenienttime to seer.”
She blinks. “And you think I might be able to master them before the next trial?”
“Not necessarily, but training you physically is a bit of a moot point.”
She narrows her eyes at my brutal honesty. So I add, “And if you can focus your visions, perhaps you can see what the next trial entails. Maybe we can work ahead of it?”
“What if I can’t stop them once I start? You saw me in the lesson today. It’s not something as easy as lifting a weight. It's a blind charge that I can’t predict or stop. And not easy to hide, either.”
“Then we…” I puff out a breath, searching for an answer. “Train at night. Which means during the days in our free time, it’ll be best to rest and recharge.”
She turns her back to me, strolling to the nearest stone bench and taking a seat. Tossing a glance over my shoulder to ensure no one else has strolled down our path, I join her.
“Eventually…” She gulps. “Eventually whatever I saw, and my mother saw, will come true then?”
“Your mother was a Seer, too?”
She nods. “Yes. A Dark Seer, I think. Many things she couldn’t even put into words. They’d haunt her day and night…”
I squeeze her shoulder. Unable to comprehend the weight of seeing something awful and knowing it would eventually come. “Don’t worry yourself too much about it. Visions are often vague and open to interpretation. And sometimes there’s the off chance the Gods grant a change of fate by a bender.”
Her eyes soften when she looks up at me. “A bender?”
“Yes. Benders can twist reality, sometimes. If the need is dire enough.” I pat her shoulder and drop my hand off her. “Don’t worry yourself with it too much, Lyra. We have to focus on getting through one day at a time.”
