“Good. Now come with me to breakfast. Let’s eat before I have to get in the saddle.”
“I want to fly with you,” I said. “L’eesha wants to, too.”
He frowned.
“No—as your Wing Leader, I forbid it! Neither one of you is experienced enough. You’d get flamed in midair by another cadet.”
“No, I wouldn’t. And L’eesha could help direct the Wings—if only Humbolt would let her,” I added, frowning.
“You know he won’t and the Head Master is backing him up.” Ryse sighed. “You have to see their point of view—L’eesha isn’t even a year old yet and she’s never been in any kind of battle.”
“Neither have any of the other riders and dragons,” I pointed out. “None of them have done anything but fancy aerial maneuvers! No one in our lifetime has ever fought the Madlings.”
“At least they’re used to flying together in formation,” Ryse said. He kissed me again, on the mouth this time. “Listen, I want you to stay safe inside. You can use L’eesha to communicate with me if you need to.”
“I don’t want you to go.” My eyes were suddenly filled with tears. I knew it was a selfish wish. Ryse was one of the best Wing Leaders in the Academy—he would probably be instrumental in keeping his whole Wing alive. Without him, they wouldn’t have a leader.
But I didn’t want to risk him—not when we’d had each other such a short time.
His eyes softened.
“I don’t want to go, either, little one,” he said softly. “But this is what I was born to do—it’s in my blood. I have to defend the Academy and the villages that rely on us. I have to go.”
“I know.” I swiped at my tears. “I know you have to.”
He cupped my face in his hands.
“Don’t ever forget how much I love you,” he murmured. “Now, come on—let’s go before all the food goes cold.”
But he never got a chance for breakfast. Because just at that moment, the high-pitched alarm horns began to blow—the horns that hadn’t blown in over a hundred years. At the same time, the Great Bell began to ring wildly.
“Riders to your dragons!” I heard someone calling. “Riders to your Dragons—Madlings have been sighted!”
70
AURORA
Anyone can blame me who likes, but I wasn’t about to stay inside while the battle was taking place overhead. I loved Ryse and he was my Wing Leader—I would obey him and not try to fly with the more experienced cadets, but I wouldn’t just sit in the Academy and wait to hear if he was all right or not. I needed to see what was happening for myself.
L’eesha felt the same way, of course. She was already waiting for me when I slipped up to the Caverns on Level Five. You wouldn’t think that a huge golden dragon could be sneaky, but she was as quiet as a mouse as we slipped through the honeycombed caverns until we came to the wide single entrance that had been kept open.
We stayed in the shadows, watching as the Wings mounted and flew out, taking their formations in the sky above. Then, when all of the dragons that were flying in the upcoming battle had gone, we went right to the entrance to watch.
I was a little afraid that the two elderly dragons guarding the entrance would stop us, but L’eesha told them to let us pass and they didn’t give us any problems. And so, the two of us were able to take up watch right at the edge of the entrance where we had a clear view of the sky above.
At first all I saw were the different Wings flying in formation. They were spaced evenly but each Wing was separate from the others. There were worryingly large gaps between them, too.
“If they keep flying like that, the Madlings will get through,” L’eesha pointed out.
“I know,” I murmured, but what could we do?
I didn’t see any Madlings coming and for a brief instant, I hoped that we had all been mistaken. The rising sun was lighting the sky and shedding light on the villages below the base of the Old Drake. I saw no activity there—the villagers were clearly staying inside—very wise of them.
I watched Ryse and M’alex flying at the front of their Wing and felt my heart swell with hope and love for both of them.
“i love them too,” L’eesha told me. “even when Ryse gets mad at me, I still love him.”
I started to laugh…but the sound died in my throat, which was suddenly horribly dry. Up ahead, where the Western Mountains loom, I saw it—a black smudge on the horizon.
