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"That's the problem." He points toward where she'd been standing. "You thought the tail was relaxed." He says.

"It was."

"It was moving." She swallows. "Movement creates space." Kaelis looks at everyone. "You respect it."

No one makes that mistake again. By late afternoon we're exhausted without having cast a single manifestation. The strangest part? I feel like I've trained harder than yesterday. My eyes hurt from watching. My mind hurts from interpreting. Every movement around me now seems important.

A dragon scratches at the ground. I notice. One adjusts its wing. I notice. Another turns its head toward a sound. I notice. I can't stop noticing. Professor Kaelis gathers us near the center of the field. "Everything you've done today..." He says. "Was easy." Cassian actually looks offended. Someone behind us groans. Kaelis ignores them. "Young dragons communicate broadly." He gestures toward the copper female. "They're expressive." Toward another. "Reactive." Then his pointer shifts. Toward Vyrael. My stomach drops. Oh. No. Rhyven is already walking toward him. Vyrael's eyes open before Rhyven reaches his head. The dragon doesn't rise. He doesn't need to. Even lying down he's taller than some of the training structures. Professor Kaelis looks around. "Ancient dragons are different." Vyrael's gaze settles on the crowd. Several students instinctively straighten. "They've had centuries to refine communication." Kaelis continues. "They don't waste energy." Vyrael's enormous nostrils expand once. Slowly. "Warnings become smaller." His eye moves. Only slightly. Toward a Rider walking behind us. "Movements become deliberate." One talon presses into the earth. Barely. "Intent becomes..." Professor Kaelis pauses. "Efficient."

Rhyven reaches Vyrael. Places one hand against the dark scales near his jaw. Nothing dramatic happens. Vyrael doesn't lower himself. Doesn't perform. Doesn't acknowledge the hundreds of students watching him. He simply allows Rhyven into his space. And somehow that says more about their bond than anything else could. Professor Kaelis turns toward us. "If Vyrael shows you his teeth..." A pause. "You've already ignored several warnings." Silence.

Cassian whispers, "That's comforting." Nyra elbows him. Rhyven looks toward the students. "First group." Apparently we're doing this.

The exercise is simple. In theory. Walk from one side of Vyrael to the other. Maintain appropriate distance. Identify every change in his body language. Respond correctly. Do not interfere with his space. Easy. Except nothing involving Vyrael feels easy. Three groups go before ours. The first moves too slowly. The second gives him too much distance. The third nearly fails because someone mistakes his attention toward a circling dragon for irritation. Then..."Vaelith." Of course. I step forward. Rhyven stands several yards away. Arms crossed. Expression completely neutral. I hate that expression. It usually means he's enjoying something. Not visibly. Internally.

I approach Vyrael. Twenty feet. Nothing. Fifteen. His eye shifts toward me. I stop. Rhyven's voice carries across the space. "What did he tell you?" I study Vyrael. His eye is on me. Wings still. Tail unmoving. Shoulders relaxed. Breathing unchanged.

"He noticed me." I answer. Confident.

"Good." I continue. Twelve feet. Ten. Gods. He's enormous. This close... His scales aren't simply black. There are veins of charcoal and deep bronze running through them, scars cutting pale lines across several near his shoulder. Heat radiates from his body. Not uncomfortable. Just...Immense. Like standing near stone that has spent all day beneath the sun.

Vyrael shifts. I stop instantly. One foreleg moves. Barely. His talons settle differently against the earth. My heart kicks. I step backward. "Stop." Rhyven. I freeze. "What did he tell you?"

"Move." I answer.

"No."

"He moved."

"Yes."

"So I moved." I repeat.

"Why?"

I stare at him. "Because we've spent six hours being told not to get crushed." A few students laugh.

Rhyven doesn't. His mouth twitch. "Look again."

I turn back toward Vyrael. Shoulders. Relaxed. Wing. Still. Tail. Still. Eye...No longer on me. He's looking toward Rhyven. Oh. I exhale. "He adjusted his weight." Rhyven nods. I look accusingly at Vyrael. The dragon remains completely indifferent to my feelings. Rude.

I step forward again. Eight feet. Six. Closer than I have ever deliberately stood beside him. I can hear him breathing now. Slow. Deep. Each exhale moves the loose strands of hair near my face. Five feet. His eye moves toward me again. I stop. Rhyven waits. "What did he tell you?"

I study everything. Eye. Shoulders. Jaw. Wings. Tail. Breathing. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. "Nothing." I answer.

"Then?" I look at Rhyven. He raises one eyebrow. I hate when he does that.

"Then I keep moving."

"Good."

I do. Four feet. Three. Gods. The heat. I can feel it through my uniform now. Vyrael could move his head six inches and knock me onto my ass. He doesn't. His enormous golden eye follows me. Calm. Aware. Ancient. I keep walking. Past his shoulder. Along the safe route Professor Kaelis marked earlier.

For one strange moment everything else disappears. Students. Professors. Training. Council. All I hear is Vyrael breathing. All I feel is heat. And nothing happens. He doesn't move away. Doesn't tense. Doesn't warn. He simply lets me exist there.

I reach the other side. Only then do I breathe properly again. Cassian looks delighted. Nyra looks proud. Caelen...Looks like he aged five years. I grin at him. He doesn't return it. Instead, he points two fingers toward his eyes and then at me.

Rhyven hasn't moved. His attention isn't on me anymore. It's on Vyrael. Something passes across his expression. So quickly I almost miss it. Confusion. Not concern. Not fear. Just...A question. Vyrael turns his enormous head toward him. Rhyven's eyes narrow. A conversation I can't hear. Then...Nothing. Rhyven looks back at me.